


Échappé

by DenDenMonMon



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Monkey is bad at tags, Slow Burn, dance au, trixya was supposed to be a side story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenDenMonMon/pseuds/DenDenMonMon
Summary: Échappé: Slipping movement in which a dancer starts in a closed position and ends in an opened one.A community center, about to be demolished, forces prima ballerina Brooke Lynn Hytes to  entangle her life with Vanessa “Miss Vanjie” Mateo’s, a stripper determined to save it. While trying to solve their differences, shortage of money, and ever growing sexual tension, they discover how dance is their only common ground to save the center.





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NinthRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinthRose/gifts).
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Hello. Welcome!  
So I have never written Branjie before, please, be patient since this is my first attempt. This was a crazy idea that a friend started ranting about on Twitter. I couldn’t help myself and just HAD to bring it to life. Even when I did significant research on them, there’s a huge chance you are about to read a version of Branjie that exists only in my head, tweaked a little by said friend.  
Also, I’m Trixya trash, through and through, so expect a lot of that in the background.  
Enjoy and please don’t forget to leave your thoughts in the comments section.

Chapter 1

“You know, you can just admit that we are lost.” Brooke laughed dryly from the backseat. Her big sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose slightly. She pushed them back into place with a smile pasted on her lips.

Ben looked at her through the rear view mirror, the single curl bouncing on his forehead to the movement. He had his lips twisted to the side in a cheeky grin, gladly welcoming the friendly banter. 

“If you must know, I am very sure of where we are. I just need to find a street that actually goes down.”

Brooke didn’t bother in replying. Her eyes rolled on their own, even when they were hidden behind the black shades. She changed her crossed legs, switching to left over right, and looked out the window. 

She liked Los Angeles, she liked it a lot. Sure, she used to live in, probably, the biggest metropolis in the country, but this wasn’t her calm and relaxed Canada. Downton LA was ugly, dirty, dangerous, and she loved every bit of it. That was the whole charm about it. She could stare at those old buildings all day. They seemed to belong in so many different eras and times, yet, they coexisted in harmony, creating this mix-match look that somehow fit perfectly together. The sidewalks were always crowded with people from all over the world, in all these different colors and shapes, and speaking so many languages. They were always walking fast and never waiting for the red hand to change to cross the street. 

The car finally went left. There were honking sounds following the movement, and Brooke was sure that her driver had taken an unauthorized turn.

She held onto the handle on the door with a smile, amused by the way her body slid on the seat. The smile stayed there. Even when Ben kept mumbling complaints under his breath, Brooke couldn’t help but smile. She was happy. She had traveled the world and eaten the most amazing food; she had lived in exotic places and fallen in love with wildly interesting people, but she had never felt so content in her life. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, at the very happy thought.

Brooke Lynn Hytes had just turned thirty, and her life was right where she wanted it to be. It hadn’t been easy, but she wouldn’t change a single thing about it. In a way, she liked how she had to fight for what she wanted, it gave her a certain perspective on life she could only obtain through struggle. She celebrated every victory and embraced every failure. Learned and grew from every experience, appreciated every achievement, and made sure to keep a quick and smart sense of humor; which her mom had taught her. Mom’s are always right after all.

She didn’t like to consider herself a lucky person. Everything Brooke had, she had worked for it. Nothing had been given to her for free, and opportunities had most definitely never simply fallen into her lap. When it came to her family, though, she knew that God, or the universe, or merely luck, had worked in her favor, landing her in the most amazing environment for any kid to grow up in. She, and all of her siblings, were always given the chance to be free, express themselves, go after their goals and trust their instincts. That’s how she managed to follow her passion and turn the life she dreamed about into a reality.

Being a ballerina had always been her aspiration. There was a world of a difference between her current self and that dreamy girl - the girl who would take advantage of any flat surface to try and pull dance moves she had just seen on TV. Brooke remembered being in her shared bedroom, pushing her sister’s stuff to the side so she could have more space to practice. Her legs were weak and untrained. 

She couldn’t help but touch her toned thigh through the fabric of her skirt. Her body had truly come a long way. 

As much as her parents wanted to help her to pursue that dream, money had been tight, and dance academies have never been cheap. 

Brooke had fond memories of small dance groups she went to after class, at a tiny community center across from the school. For only a few bucks a week, she could dance with her friends for an hour per day, guided by an overly-enthusiastic Zumba instructor who really liked children. Those were enough credentials for the director of the place, who allowed her to teach. Brooke had no complaints, though. Those were her favorite dance years, before she was ‘discovered’ - when dancing was all about having fun, when dancing wasn’t a career. She had to admit, it was a job she loved, but a job nonetheless.

On the street, a mother angrily pulled her child by the arm. The girl seemed to walk a little too slow for the mom’s taste. Blonde curls created a jumping curtain around the girl’s face, who deliberately refused to move faster. Brooke saw so much of herself in the small child, the stubborn resemblance making her chuckle in her seat.

“See? Told you I knew where we were,” Ben said triumphantly. His words only meant he had finally found the right route again. He was a very talkative man, and just then did Brooke realize he had been quiet for a long time, probably trying to figure out his away around that part of the city.

The thought brought a new question to her mind. “DeLa, where are we? Is this still downtown?”

Her eyes once again met Ben’s through the mirror, what looked almost like an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, but according to this thing…” His fingers tapped on the GPS integrated in the dashboard. “We only need to go a few blocks down, enter the ten, and we’ll be on our merry way.” The silly smile was obnoxious, mainly because it was genuine. Brooke couldn’t stand the idea of someone being so happy all the time, but leave it to BenDeLaCreme to be able to pull it off.

Once he’d gotten some sense of direction, Ben went back to his usual self, giving random information he knew about the buildings around them, and how the government's money only went to certain parts of the city, leaving this side completely forgotten.

After taking a right turn, the street grew smaller, the four lines merging into one and slowing them down. 

Brooke didn’t welcome the traffic very well. The day was hot and she could feel her shirt sticking to her back. She ran a hand around her ear, pushing nonexistent loose strands back into place. Her blonde hair was perfectly tied in a bun at the back of her head, just like a prima ballerina should always wear it. Not a strand fell out of place, ever, she was always careful about that. Sitting in a car for so long, with nothing to do but entertain Ben’s pointless conversation, forced her hands to play with imaginary hair.

Suddenly, her eyes were pulled to the scene taking place across the street, her back straightened and her jaw dropped dramatically. She took the round sunglasses away from her face, just to have a clear view of what was happening in the corner of the park.

Her flat hand hit the front seat a few times with more force than she intended. “Ben, pull over.”

“What, now? Where? Why?”

“Oh, God, just do it!”

The cars around them were not moving much, traffic finally doing some good for them. Ben easily moved out of the way and found a spot to parallel park. The tires of the SUV hadn’t fully stopped when Brooke was opening her door and stepping down.

Her high heels hitting the pavement were barely audible above the loud music and inevitable sounds of children playing around her. She had to step on grass but she didn’t even care, she kept going and going, trying to balance the best she could in those shoes, until she reached her destination.

A group of young girls had a speaker perched on a bench. The round tube shined bright colors that immediately got drowned by the sunrays. Brooke didn’t recognize the music, but she liked the Latin flavor it had. Her mind was instantly thinking of intricate ballroom dances that could be performed to that song. Nonetheless, the girls dancing to it had a very different idea. Their hips moved to a synchronized rhythm, even when they were clearly freestyling. Each had their own take on the song, the beats awakening unique moves for each of their limbs but, at the same time, they clearly worked together. They looked like a perfectly structured dance team.

The song ended and the five girls giggled happily. They hugged and shared high-fives, proud of the creation they had just given life to.

She didn’t even think about it, Brooke clapped her hands slowly but loudly. She knew the smile on her face, open-mouthed and all teeth, probably looked stupid, but she wouldn’t do anything to hide it. What she had just witnessed wasn’t like anything she had ever seen in her life before. The way those girls had danced, so effortlessly, yet so accurate in technique, made her feel a certain warmth in her stomach she couldn’t really identify. She had come alive by their little performance, her heart was still beating to the rhythm of the song she didn’t even know.

All eyes went to her. The girls stopped their celebration and looked up at her. Brooke didn’t know, but they were not particularly used to see tall ladies in black pencil skirts, fancy white shirts, and sky-high stilettos. They stared at her with big questioning eyes as they lined up a few steps away from her.

“Hi!” She finally let out. It was supposed to be kind and welcoming, trying to ease the tension, but excitement made her almost yell the word at them. “You guys are so good! Are you part of a dance group?”

They looked among each other, until one of them nodded her head. If someone had instructed these girls not to talk to strangers, they should be really proud right now.

In yet another attempt to try and be friendly, Brooke bent her knees and placed her hands on her thighs, trying, unsuccessfully, to be at their eye level. She ended up sitting on her heels instead.

“You really are amazing! I wish I could dance like you, would you teach me?” Her ears filled with the innocent sound of girly giggles. Her smile only grew wider. 

One of the girls, who Brooke had right away recognized as the leader, eyed her from the side. Her stare was analytical, scanning her up and down, and actually pondering if she could be taught. “I don’t think you could do it,” was her professional opinion.

Brooke’s jaw was somewhere near the floor, partly in exaggeration to entertain the children, but mostly shocked at the unfiltered comment of the girl. She couldn’t be more than ten years old and yet she carried herself like a fully grown adult. Her clothes were colorful and her frizzy hair threatened to break out of the braid adorning the side of her head. Her skin was dark and, mixed with the slightly detectable accent, Brooke deduced she at least had some Latin descendance. No wonder she had no issue speaking her mind.

Just when she was about to ask them who was their teacher, the question answered itself. They all heard a voice yelling from behind them. The girls froze for a moment, understanding the admonishing words barked at them in Spanish.

Then came a vision in red, black and denim shorts.

“Who is you and what the fuck you doing talking to my babies?”

Brooke’s eyes widened. She crossed her arms on top of her chest with a stern look on her face. “Excuse me, maybe you shouldn’t curse in front of the children.” Her statement came out more like a question, almost asking if the girl standing in front of her understood the damage.

There was a thin braid at the top of the girl’s head, adorned with rhinestones along the way; the rest of her hair went all the way down to her waist in natural waves. The long red curls bounced as she shook her head. “Huh? You serious, girl? How I talk is none of your business. Thank you very much. Plus, they know better than to repeat those words, right, girls? Or you wanna get’cha little asses whooped?” 

They all shook their heads, amused smiles spread across their faces, indicating that the words directed to them meant no harm.

Honestly, there was something intimidating about the young woman standing in front of her. Brooke had to admit as much. It wasn’t her size, she was tiny, but her presence was grand. She wore high heel boots that went all the way up to her thighs, still a long distance from where her tiny shorts ended; and that black crop top hid barely enough of her chest. Her silver hoop earrings, that pretty much rested on her shoulders, caught the sun, blinding Brooke for a moment, and making her realize she had done nothing but stare at her for too long.

“Ya done?” The girl asked, her long lashes blinking rapidly. “You need me to turn around or somethin’?”

That was enough to fully snap Brooke out of her observations. She shook her head to physically exist that weird daze. “I apologize. Hello, I’m Brooke, Brooke Lynn Hytes.” She smiled and extended her hand, trying to be as cordial as possible.

The laugh that followed her words, she hadn’t expected. “What kind of name is that? You from New York?”

“I’m from Toronto,” Brooke offered, completely aware of the other girl’s chain of thoughts, and not falling for it. She was too used to be bullied by the unintended pun placed on her name, she had learned a rather delicate way to deal with it.

“Your parents wanted to live there or some shit? What’s the deal with that, bitch?”

That last word had thrown her off guard. Brooke was used to hearing it among her teammates, it was a term of endearment, usually the start of fun banter. Having it fall from the lips of a stranger made her feel uneasy, even when the few letters carried no harm in her direction. She retracted her hand, letting it land awkwardly on her hip.

“Yeah, okay, listen, child, don’t go all serious on me, okay? It was a stupid joke, alright? No offense to mommy and daddy and their dream vacation spot. I’m Vanessa,” she said as she closed the gap between them, grabbing Brooke’s hand without permission and shaking it at an unusual speed. “Nice to meet you, Brooke.”

Her shoulders squared up. Brooke was a strong, independent, successful woman, she was always cool and collected. There was no plausible explanation as to why this young woman, with caramel skin glistening in the harsh sun, was making her feel so… insecure?

Vanessa let go of Brooke’s hand, theatrically placing it back against her hip. “Alright, Imma ask you one more time. Are you, like, some kind of fancy-ass predator here to steal my girls and sell them to slavery, or…?”

“What?! No!” Brooke replied shocked, her voice tinted with indignation. She brought both her hands up to her hips, stretching her back and neck to at least feel some leverage, even if it was just her height. “Just, I saw the kids dancing and was taken away by their talent.” She craned her neck to look behind Vanessa, where the girls were patiently waiting for the grown-ups to be done speaking. “Are they your students?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa smiled proudly, directing her attention to them for a moment. “And they’re late for their stretching class!” Her high heeled boot was raised, pretending to send a kick their way, even though they were too far behind. “You better drag ya little asses inside before Miss Yvie comes and fucking skin you alive or some weird shit like that. You know she’s into all that freaky stuff.”

The girls ran in playful delight. Brooke followed them with her eyes until they reached a small building in the middle of the park. It looked familiar, she had never been on that part of the city, yet she felt like the construction was something she had visited before.

“Is that… your community center?”

Suddenly, Vanessa’s eyes seemed to light up. “Oh, shit! You are that-that–” her hand flailed in front of her as her brain tried to find the right noun, coming out empty. “The lady that’s supposed to give us the money, right?! The government help we applied for!” 

Before Brooke could reply, before she could deny the title just given to her, Vanessa was stomping her way back into the building, throwing words into the air that Brooke didn’t catch. Her strides were short but powerful. The red and black plaid shirt that covered her bottom bounced to the rhythm of her hips in a hypnotizing way. 

“Well, c’mon!”

It took Vanessa to yell over her shoulder to take Brooke out of her trance. She walked with fast steps behind her, unsuccessfully trying to catch up. She looked down, unable to stop herself from comparing her light steps against the forceful ones of the powerhouse in front of her. Of course, Brooke had to remind herself that she was a ballerina. She had been taught her entire life to be graceful. Feet should not make a sound when hitting the ground, that was one of the primary rules. So, she decided to stay true to her learnings and slowed down the pace, leaving Vanessa to stand by the front door for a few more seconds, waiting for her to reach it.

The first thing Brooke spotted when she walked in was a big sign next to the front desk. It read _‘We can save the center!’_ in big blue letters against white background. It had a thermometer drawn on one side. The marks on it were set in intervals of five thousand, going from zero to fifty, and it had a big dollar sign at the top. Red marker covered the bottom, barely reaching the number ten.

Behind the desk was a blonde girl with big hair, overdrawn lips, extremely pink cheeks, and way too much mascara on her heavy lashes. Her complete attention was set on the phone in her hand as she popped pink bubbles of gum.

“This is Trixie,” Vanessa informed Brooke as they walked by her. “She helps with the makeup. I have no idea what she’s doing here right now. Don’t pay attention to her, she won’t pay attention to you, anyways.”

In response, the girl lifted her middle finger, but didn’t look up from her phone.

Vanessa took her around the place, showing Brooke the small indoor basketball court, and the few craft rooms. She mentioned a pool at the back but that was being cleaned, so it was better not to see it now. They walked through a small gym, where generic work out equipment had been placed. Vanessa explained someone had built them from scratch using metallic waste from the construction site where he used to work.

Music could be heard when they reached the back of the place. Those were the multipurpose rooms. They used them to teach yoga, zumba, karate, and modern dance; which was Vanessa’s class. They stopped by the room with the loud music flowing. There were around twenty girls in there –including the ones she had seen at the park– each supporting themselves on their hands and bare feet, forming an arch with their backs. A thin young woman, with limbs that seemed to go on forever, and skin as smooth and rich as milk chocolate, corrected the girls and helped them place their backs in the right position. 

The tour ended back at the front desk. “See? Don’t tell me it ain’t cute. This is such an important place for the community,” Vanessa spoke with such enthusiasm it was contagious. “Grandmas come knit while the kids play basketball or dance their booties off. This is not a nice neighborhood, you see? So we need good things. This is a really good thing and we would like to keep it. If you could, please, not sell it to those big companies that only care about shit like parking space, that would, you know, really help us a lot.”

Brooke blinked a couple of times, she had completely forgotten about the misunderstanding. She had been so wrapped up in the way Vanessa talked about the place, making her fall in love with it right from the start, that she never found a moment to clarify who she was. Learning that they could lose it broke her heart. And then she had to think of an easy way to let them know she was not the salvation they had been expecting… or maybe she was?

Her hand landed on the desk, the other one found its rightful place on her hip. “Umm, I don’t know how to say this, but... I can’t make the government help you.”

Vanessa looked around, her weight shifting from one foot to the other in clear annoyance. “I knew it! This fucking administration doesn’t give a shit about–”

Brooke lifted her hand, making Vanessa’s rant die on her lips. “But only because I don’t work for the government like you thought.”

“Ha!” A scream-like laugh came from behind them. “She’s got you, V!” Trixie said before getting up and walking away, not willing to waste her time on them anymore.

Vanessa’s jaw hung low in surprise. “Then why the fuck you made me give you a goddamn tour of the place?”

“I didn’t–” Brooke was unable to answer, Vanessa’s anger filling up the space around them.

“You showed here with all you-your big money shoes and executive clothes, looking all _cah-ching, cah-ching_, and you can’t even help us!”

Brooke was reaching the end of her patience. The palm of her hand landed loudly against the desk, regaining Vanessa’s attention. “Listen here. I never said I couldn’t help you, okay? If you could stop for one minute and pay attention. I direct a dance company–”

“Oh, Mary! You are fuckin’ competition, aren’t you? You are here to steal our moves! Nah ah. No, ma’am. Not on my watch, Momma. You better get going.” Vanessa’s index finger pointed towards the door, her arm fully extended, and her face showing nothing but fury.

Instead of exiting, Brooke took a few steps closer, towering her. The heat radiating from Vanessa’s body was tickling her skin. “I could help you,” she said slowly and carefully. “My company can make a generous donation so you can save this place.”

Vanessa didn’t even flinch, her feet hit the ground one at the time, her jaw was clenched, and her stare pierced right into Brooke’s soul. “We are not a charity. We don’t need no free money. Go, now.” The words came out low but full of force.

Brooke was not going to accept being treated like that. She looked up at the thermometer sign, spotting a date for the first time in the top left corner.

“See you in two months. I’ll love to see the demolition of this place.”

And, with that, she walked out the door, not even bothering to look back to see Vanessa’s reaction. The girl had just gotten on her bad side, and there was no turning back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and giving this story a chance, please don’t forget to let me know what you think.


	2. Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading, watch [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYQGj1sEXss) . Trust me, you are gonna need it. Ejoy!  
-Monkey.

Chapter 2

The light above her head blinked from yellow to orange, off, and back to yellow. Brooke stared at the neon tubes, delicately twisted to form the word ‘girls’ in cursive lettering.

“Remind me why we agreed to come to this place again?” She asked to no one in particular, her rhetorical question just being thrown in the air with no real need of an actual answer.

Next to her, Detox seemed to be studying the sign as well. The cigarette in her hand pointed at the blonde girl in the red dress, jumping in excitement next to them. “Because it’s Katya’s birthday and she’s a raging lesbian,” she said matter-of-factly, the cigarette making its way back to her lips right after.

Katya opened her mouth in faked offense. “You know what? I will not allow myself to be antagonized, bullied, and singled out during my own birthday celebration. I am bisexual!” She laughed at her own words, wheezing noises coming from the bottom of her lungs. The rest of the girls simply shook their heads with tiny smiles on their faces, fully aware that Katya’s weird sense of humor was exactly what made Katya… well, Katya.

Unlike Katya’s excited behavior, Plastique wrapped her arms tighter around her torso, her weight shifting uncomfortably from one high-heel clad foot to the other. “Ooh, if my Mamma knew where I was…” she wasn’t even able to finish her sentence. Nerves got the best of her, showing in the way her Vietnamese accent seemed to be suddenly much heavier. Her long hair covered half of her face, giving her a certain air of innocence, a drastic contrast to the revealing dress covering barely enough of her perfectly sculpted body. Her frame was lean and long, with dancer legs that seem to go on forever. The girl did inherit those from her mom, no doubt about that.

Brooke looked at the young twenty-two year old, and a lot of questions played in her head. For example, why did she have such a strong accent when she barely ever talked to her dad? It would have made a lot more sense if she had acquired her mom’s Texian accent, since they are constantly on the road together.

“Would you stop?!” Brooke suddenly found herself snapping, Katya’s incessant jumping getting on her nerves.

“I can’t,” Katya replied, nervously taking the cigarette from Detox’s fingers and placing it between her own lips. “I just want to get in there already!”

Detox took the cigarette back, throwing the box in Katya’s hands so she could get one of her own. “We are just waiting for Nina.”

“I’m here, I’m here. I’m sorry.” As if on cue, the only girl missing from their group appeared running down the street. The big hair bounced to the rhythm of her heavy steps. Her breath seemed to be lacking as she tried to reach them as fast as she could. Her sparkly clothes shone bright as it caught the neon lights of the club’s entrance. Even when outfits had not been discussed, it was clear she hadn’t understood the dress code for the night. Nina looked cute in her high heeled glittery boots and colorful set of midthigh shorts and vest, yet it couldn’t have been more different from the other girls’ looks.

A very impatient Katya slapped her arm. “Bitch, what took you so long?” 

The action was not meant to be hurtful, yet the chubby girl flinched and moved her hand to rub the damaged area. The smile never dropping from her face. “Alyssa wanted to have all the kids’ costumes ready. Oh, they look so wonderful!” Her hands clapped in excitement before she turned serious. “By the way, Alyssa wants you back by midnight,” her last words were directed to Plastique, who was already nervous, never mind adding a curfew from her mom.

“Can we go in, already?” Katya stepped on the butt of the cigarette, the music coming from the club making her eager.

Not missing a beat they all lined up and walked inside. Brooke made sure to stand behind Plastique, the only one who was constantly getting carded. Without failure, the guy at the front door asked for her ID. He looked at the girl smiling up at him from the card, and then at the sultry runway model in front of him.

Brooke wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Makeup can do wonders, can’t it? Don’t worry, it’s the same person and she’s one hundred percent legal. Promise.” She finished with a sexy wink of an eye, a successful sexy wink of an eye because, right after, the guy handed the ID back and they were able to walk inside.

The room was dark, there was no lighting other than the one set on the stage. Brooke had a difficult time finding her way around the small tables. As hard as she tried to look around the room, she couldn’t spot her friends. It was tough to concentrate when she kept stumbling with grumpy men, sitting on small stools with beers in their hands, upset that their attention was taken away from the dancer on the T shaped platform. The music was loud, _too loud_, Brooke thought. That was one more thing preventing her from focusing on the task at hand. The notes sounded familiar, forcing her to stop and actually look at the stage. 

Who could possibly be stripping to a Bette Midler song?

Her eyes were not prepared for the image in front of her. There was a performer inside of a big yellow plastic tube, moving around and flailing their limbs like those inflatable dance man that they use as advertising hooks at gas stations. What was even stranger was how all eyes were set on the wacky waving tube creature, expectantly and completely mesmerized by the dramatic interpretation of the song it was giving.

Suddenly there was a change in the music. “I’m Too Sexy” started playing and the dancer got rid of the yellow cover up. Inside was a beautiful girl, wearing a silver bra and sparkling bell bottom pants. Her hair was every color of the rainbow, that Brooke was sure it was a wig. There was no way someone’s natural hair could handle all that amount of chemicals. More importantly, the face looked familiar, and she didn’t remember the girl having that set of hair.

Brooke’s head tilted to the side, as she tried to recognize the girl doing high kicks on stage. On her knees the dancer twisted her arms to wrap around her back in an almost inhuman way, unhooked her bra and threw it to the screaming audience. The girl then crawled her way to the middle of the stage, supported herself on her forearms and threw her feet up in the air, opening her legs in a perfect split. Instead of going back to her original position, she swung her whole body in the opposite direction, landing in an arch that went higher and higher as she stretched her arms.

That was when it clicked. Brooke finally knew who the girl was. She was the teacher from Vanessa’s community center. Not even a week ago, she had been showing the girls how to achieve the same position she was doing then. Of course, she hadn’t been topless during the class.

The music changed again, to a song that was insanely popular during Brooke’s youth, but she could swear she never learned the name of. The name of the girl dancing on the platform was what she was more worried about, not the title of the nineties hit. While her brain racked for an answer, because she was sure she had heard the name of the dancer at some point, her eyes were glued to the performance. 

Yvie jumped into a split… _Yvie! Her name was Yvie!_ Yvie jumped and landed in a split, her body bounced across the room, one leg going the opposite direction from the other, until she reached the end of the stage, and took a bill from Katya’s hand.

“There they are!”

Brooke pulled Plastique to followed her, still thinking about the dancer now taking her pants off in front of them, and how she was even allowed to be near children. A mental note was made to go back to the community center at some point, to talk to the director and ask about the hiring process. Maybe she should talk to the girl, advise her to get a more decent job if she wanted to be a role model for small kids. Or maybe she shouldn’t do any of that, the place was meant to be demolished anyway. 

Brooke took a seat on the booth to the side of the stage, where the girls already had drinks in their hands. Someone handed her a tall pink glass. She didn’t ask what was in it, she sipped the beverage, surprised at the unexpectedly heavy amount of alcohol in it.

She watched Yvie reach the end of her set as she went around a pole to a fast tempo version of the Macarena, finishing in a death drop. A shadow went around her, picking the money being thrown at her. Brooke clapped rather formally compared to the loud cheering and whistling of her friends. Katya literally seemed close to losing her mind.

Someone showed up on the stage. A big woman in a bright blue dress walked in with a microphone in hand as Yvie walked out, her clothes safely bunched in her arms as she waved with a big smile on her face.

“Give it up for Miss Yvie Oddly!” The spectators did as they were told, giving one more round of applause to the performer. “Alright, alright, calm your ass down, bitch.” Laughter was heard but, once again, the room attended to her command. “Before we welcome our next hoe, you know what we need to do. Attitude check!” She screamed from the bottom of her lungs.

“Fuck you, bitch!” was the comeback from everybody in the place but Brooke’s group.

“Oh, my God!” Detox sounded surprised as her hoarse laughter resounded barely above the music.

“My name is Dr. Silky Nutmeg Ganache,” the woman on stage continued. “But I shouldn’t be reminding you that shit, y’all already know who I am. And you better remember that name, honey, ‘cause you’re gonna see it shiny and bright on TV any time now.” She laughed at her own words as she moved from one end of the stage to the other, her presence demanding everyone’s attention. “Now, get those dollars ready ‘cause when she divorced Ken, she ain’t got shit! Make some noise for the one... the only... the human size Barbie doll… Trixie Mattel!”

The audience went wild at the mention of the dancer's name. The entire room went black again. The form on the stage changed. They could only see an hourglass figure and big hair. A Gwen Stefani song started playing, the girl on stage was giving her back to them, dressed in what seemed to be nothing but a raincoat and high heels. She moved her hips to the intro, slowly taking the covering garment off and letting it drop to her feet. She turned around, but it wasn’t until the spotlights were turned back on that they saw just what the presenter had mentioned, a real Barbie doll in all her bathing suit glory.

“Trixie?” Brooke exhaled in pure shock. The makeup was, if possible, even heavier, and the hair was higher than the first time she saw her, but it was definitely her.

“You know her?!” Katya grabbed her by the arm and squeezed hard, trying to get her attention. Her eyes were big with expectation. “You know that goddess of a woman?”

Brooke shook her head. “Not personally, not really. Just… I know who she is.” Her last words came out more like a question, asking if that made enough sense to be an explanation.

“Oh, Momma, I need to get up on that gig!” Without another word, Katya left to move closer to the stage, to get a better view of the performance, dragging a poor Plastique who followed her with a girly yelp.

The rest stayed back, drinking and watching the show from afar. They saw Katya placing a bill in her mouth and offering it to the dancer, who gladly bit it away from her lips before giving her a quick kiss. Trixie made a peace sign, giving Katya a cute wink, then she brought her fingers to her face and stuck her tongue between them. Katya’s arms and legs went everywhere at the obscene movement. Her happiness could be felt all the way to their booth.

“What do you say we buy the birthday girl a lap dance?” Detox offered.

Both Brooke and Nina agreed, getting their purses and gathering what they thought would be enough money.

Detox and Nina waited until the song was over and the dancer was down from the stage to go find her, leaving Brooke alone in the big couch. She was still sipping on the same drink, which had turned warm by now, but she didn’t mind. The night had been interesting enough and she was in some sort of trance, induced by shock and disbelief instead of alcohol.

Silky appeared again, doing the attitude check bit one more time. This time Brooke yelled with everybody else. Her drink was finally gone.

The last dancer of the night was introduced, the main event and the reason why most of them were there, Silky assured. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Miss Vanjie!” The name was drawled with a certain intonation that the audience repeated. Everybody used the same sing-song pronunciation as they said the name over and over again.

Red light showered them all as a girl, dressed in a firefighter outfit, took the stage. There was no mistaking it this time. Brooke’s jaw was somewhere near the floor when she saw Vanessa stomping her way across the runway. Her hair looked longer since it was flat-ironed, reaching somewhere around her butt. She forcefully flipped it side to side as a Rihanna song travelled loudly through the speakers of the club. 

Sure, the other girls had totally put on a show, but it wasn’t until _Miss Vanjie_ hit the stage that Brooke actually paid attention. Not only because her pure existence demanded to be looked at, but because her moves were something technically out of this world. She moved in perfect sync with the music, hitting every count and sharply going from one sequence to the next. Her Latina body was muscular just in the right places, her toned legs were in full display under the small skirt and her arms showed their strength as they punched the air on tempo. As if her hair was not hypnotizing enough, she walked all the way to the front, where the pole was set, and started going around it, pulling Brooke into a dream-like state. All she could see was caramel skin bathed in glitter, shining bright with the lights above her head. 

Miss Vanjie turned around, her ass moved in a way that didn’t seem humanly possible. She dropped to the floor, sitting on her heels, bouncing a couple of times with ease.

A black leather glove came off first, then the other one. She made a show of it, twirling it above her head before she put it around a guy’s neck. The action drove everybody crazy. Then came the heavy jacket, which left her in a black bra, the yellow skirt and black boots. Her body moved so fast, her hips seemed to have a life of their own, practically threatening to detach from the rest of her body. 

She touched her own breasts with one hand, the other ran down her stomach and got lost inside the waistband of the skirt.

Brooke didn’t even notice she was pressing her thighs together, a burning sensation starting at the pit of her stomach and running all the way down to a very sensitive spot between her legs. It was a strange feeling, which she knew could only go away if she ran a hand against her throbbing core. She couldn’t do that, not in public. Even when all the lights were off, even when there was nobody around to see her, even when the girl on stage was doing exactly that, she couldn’t do it.

The skirt found the floor across the stage soon after, Brooke couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up, not really knowing where she was going but determined to get there. She saw the little sign directing her to the bathrooms. She paused for a moment. She could go in there, get rid of the pulsing between her legs, and come back out.

A red door called her attention instead. Silky sat on a chair in front of it, counting dollar bills and writing down amounts in a small notebook.

“What’s in there?” Brooke found herself asking.

Silky lifted an oddly shaped eyebrow. “That’s the private area. You want a private dance?”

Brooke didn’t even think about it, the words simply left her mouth. “How much is it?”

“Thirty for one song, fifty if you want to touch, and a hundred for two songs where everything goes, if you know what I mean.”

With a sigh, Brooke dug into her purse, pulling two twenty dollar bills. “Just the one song, please.”

“What am I? An ATM? There’s no cash back?”

“Well, can this buy me a song and a half?”

“Oh, we have a bargainer. No, bitch. I’m keeping this.” The large woman pulled the money from Brooke’s hand and placed it in her sparkling bra. “Go through the third curtain to the right, I’ll send a girl right away.”

“I want her.” Brooke pointed to the stage, where Vanessa’s naked body was descending on the pole.

“Of course you do.”

Brooke tried to ignore the knowingly smile on the presenter’s face. She just walked to where she was told, passing the other spaces covered in see-through curtains. Private area, yeah right. From afar, the unmistakable wheezing laugh was heard, then a scream-like one. Brooke immediately identified both and a small smile crept to her lips. Her friend was clearly having fun.

She went in the cubicle assigned to her and waited. She knew that Vanessa, _Miss Vanjie_, had to finish her set, but being alone with her thoughts was not a good idea. There was no apparent reason why she had done this. Was she really about to get a lap dance from this girl? More importantly, why did she suddenly feel the need to be in a private room with her? She had those, and so many more questions roaming in her head, and couldn’t find an answer to a single one. She simply paced the small space, decorated in black and pinks, before sitting down on the big couch against the back wall.

The curtain was drawn with a yank. Brooke stood up as a bolt when Vanessa appeared in nothing but her underwear.

“Hi, Pap–” She stopped herself mid-sentence, her sexy front falling immediately. “Oh, hell no. Fuck no. What are you doing here?”

Brooke quickly walked to her, taking her by the wrist so she wouldn’t go away. Both looked down at their hands, the feeling of skin-on-skin being almost unbearable. 

“Wait, please. I just wanna talk.”

Vanessa looked surprised. “Talk? You wanna pay me just to talk?” She moved her hand away, making Brooke let go of her. “Your rich ass really don’t know where to spend money, huh?” There was a slight laugh leaving her lips. It was at least something.

Brooke sighed, sitting down. Vanessa followed and took the seat next to her. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I got upset and said things I didn’t mean. I think we both did.”

“I didn’t,” Vanessa assured. “I really think it was fucked up how you messed with me, child.”

“But, I didn’t,” Brooke reminded her. “It was all a misunderstanding. That doesn’t matter, now, does it? Bottom line is, I do want to help. You are such a talented dancer, you don’t have to be wasting your talent in a horrible place like this.”

Her words seemed to ignite a fire under Vanessa’s butt, because she quickly stood up, towering her. “Don’t pretend like you fucking know me, bitch. I do what I do because I have to. Not everybody was born in a fucking gold crib with butlers and whatnot giving you your bottle of diamond milk or some expensive shit like that.”

Now it was Brooke’s turn to stand up, the height difference more evident than ever. “You don’t know anything about my life, so don’t pretend like you fucking know me, _bitch_.” She threw her own words back at Vanessa, anger clenching her jaw, stopping them from flowing as easily as they did coming from the Latin fireball in front of her.

Vanessa stomped her feet against the carpeted floor, one at the time, clearly exasperated. Her long lashes went rapidly up and down as she blinked faster than usual. “If you came here to fight me, you didn’t have to waste all your dough, I could have kicked your white ass in the parking lot for free.”

Brooke had to take a deep breath to calm herself. No, she didn’t go there to fight but, if she was being honest with herself, she had no idea why she was there in the first place. 

“Why wouldn’t you just take the money? We can easily make the donation. My ballet company is always looking for charities to sup–”

“Because we ain’t no fucking charity!” A groan of pure frustration escaped Vanessa’s lips, her hands ran through her hair, trying unsuccessfully to stay calm. “That’s what you don’t understand. We don’t need no free money. We are making, like, parties and events, and all the girls put in part of their tips. There’s a competition we really wanna win. The prize has a lot of zeros, bitch. If the government doesn’t wanna do its job, we are gonna make it happen, but because we worked for it, not because someone fucking came and gave us the coins.”

“I think that’s very honorable of you.” Her words were sincere, and Brooke could only hope Vanessa could believe that.

For the first time since they met, it seemed as if both had reached the same page.

The cheering coming from the outside let them know the song was over, their time was up. “Look, if you really wanna help, there’s a contemporary category at the competition. I can move my booty just right, but none of us hoes here at the club know how to do that princess dance shit. Wanna come and kinda tells us how to do it?”

Brooke smiled widely. “I would love that.”

“Give me your phone,” Vanessa demanded, it wasn’t a question. Brooke looked at her, blinking a couple of times unsure of what would follow. Vanessa sighed. “Imma put in my number so I can give you the details.” 

Brooke handed her the device, waited until she entered all the information, and took the phone back.

_Miss Vanjie._

A small smile crept to her lips as she texted a waving hand emoji.

“Now go, you don’t want Big Silky to come and charge you extra… or maybe you do, since you like wasting money like that.”

With the smile still nailed to her lips, Brooke exited the small cubicle. Just in time to run into Katya, who was practically skipping on her way out.

“You stinky whore! You got some big boobs rubbing all over your hot body too?”

Brooke shook her head, linking her arm with her friend’s. “I am here on business. You know I’m straight.”

Katya shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s spaghetti… until it gets wet.”

Brooke stopped walking, her mouth opened wide in surprise.

Her friend laughed hysterically at her reaction. Katya pulled her to keep walking, happiness running all over her body and visibly exuding from her every pore.

“This is the best birthday ever!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Hello. How are you?  
Here’s something that you probably didn’t know about me: my notes are often longer than the actual chapter. So here’s some background story:  
When svpermodel came to me with this idea aka that time she went on and on and on about this plot on Twitter, I right away pictured: Black Swan meets The Dancing Dolls, and that became the premise of this whole story.  
For this particular chapter I want to direct your attention to this [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y62Qkk7ifIA): I happened to be in the audience when this was recorded and, lemme tell you, I have never cried with a performance so much in my life. So, when the time comes, and the scene is presented, this is the mental image I want you to have when reading it.  
For your attention, thank you!  
-Monkey.

Chapter 3

All in all, Ben had a very good sense of direction. There was a reason why he was hired as a driver, after all. So, when Brooke asked him to take them back to the community center, the one they had found by mistake while lost, he had no problem getting there.

In the back seat of the black SUV, Brooke looked out the window. Next to her, Katya sang loudly in Russian, completely lost in the music she had specifically brought for the ride.

A lot of thought had been put into the situation. After her less than formal meeting with Vanessa, in the private area of the strip club, Brooke had talked to the head of the ballet company. Even when Brooke was the director, and one of the senior partners, Madam Charles still owned fifty-one percent of the company, and had the final say in the matter.

The conversation hadn’t gone easily. Brooke explained the scenario the best she could. No words could really make Madam Charles comprehend why this particular community center was so important for Brooke. She could barely explain it to herself. All she knew was that she needed to do everything in her power to save it. 

The shock came when Madam Charles approved of a donation, and Brooke pointed out they didn’t want it. What they needed were teachers, choreographers, maybe even designers and stylists. 

That was too much to ask. They didn’t have time to spare.

The company was only meant to be in Los Angeles for one more month, before moving to the next city. They had been following the same pattern for years. Theaters were booked, rehearsal studios have been rented, and hotel rooms had been arranged. The entire schedule had been lined up for them to be able to travel from one place to the other with ease. If they stopped things then, or delayed even one presentation, the amount of money it could cost would be unimaginable. Not to mention that they needed to end the tour in New York by Christmas day, where they did a special version of The Nutcracker every year.

RuPaul Charles didn’t have to remind Brooke of any of this, she was completely aware of it. That didn’t mean that the list of consequences hadn’t been brought up by the one in charge. Brooke countered with the details that she had gotten from the dancer.

Texting Vanessa had been interesting, to say the least. She was funny, very funny. Sometimes, it was intentional; other times, not so much. Brooke’s favorite was how Vanessa seemed unable to identify her own typos. Brooke would tease her about it and Vanessa, never sure of where the spelling error was, would end up sending the word in Spanish. Whenever Brooke sent her a simple question, she knew better than to expect a simple reply. She often found herself laughing out loud at an answer. 

Brooke got as much information about the event as she could. Vanessa didn’t know a lot. The only few things she knew for sure were the amount of numbers they needed to present and, of course, the cash prize if they won. Brooke had to contact people she knew in the dance industry to find out more about it. That was why she was so prepared to negotiate with her superior. There was not a single question that she didn’t already have an answer for.

The competition was in two weeks, the company was still going to be in town by then. She had talked to the other dancers, and they were all willing to help. One day at the time the ballerinas were going to join Brooke in the afternoon, right after rehearsals, practice with the kids, and be back just in time for the show of the night. If any expenses were to rise, Brooke would cover them herself, but they shouldn’t. 

Madam Charles, with the lift of a perfectly shaped eyebrow and a lot of doubt filling her chiseled features, had agreed.

The plan had been put into motion right away. Brooke gathered her best friends that same day and they had come up with a plan. She picked the song herself, Nina right away imagined the clothing for the dance, and Plastique complemented the look with the makeup they could use. Detox and Katya helped her with the choreography. Each of the two provided different abilities to the construction of the piece. Detox had the posture and poise, her slow elegant moves, put together with Katya’s flexibility and full control of her elasticity, were the perfect support to bring to life Brooke’s vision.

The category was Contemporary Group Dance. According to Vanessa, she had all the kids practicing for the hip-hop number and the Dance Offs, but she figured she could use the most advanced student and herself for the number. After one more call, Brooke confirmed not only that duos were allowed to perform, but Vanessa could be part of the number being the instructor. They had found their starting point.

Katya had offered herself to be the first one to go with Brooke to visit the center. Her excuse was that she needed to check on the dancers’ limberness before anything else, but Brooke had the suspicion that her interest was set on the makeup artist, rather than the students. She didn’t mind.

Brooke pulled open the doors to the community center. This time Trixie wasn’t there to receive them. A woman with long black hair sat behind the desk instead. Her face was serious as her fingers angrily typed in a computer. Her clothes seemed too tight and her cleavage too deep to be receiving people, but Brooke had learned better than to expect anything from that place. There was something almost intimidating about her. Almost. It took way more than a stern face to throw Brooke Lynn Hytes off balance.

“Is that a karate class?” Katya’s voice, filled with excitement, took Brooke out of her observations. 

She watched as her friend wandered off without warning. Nobody stopped her. She couldn’t go too far, Brooke reasoned, and focused her attention on the receptionist.

“Hello, I’m Brooke, I’m here–”

“Yes!” The lady interrupted her, a huge smile spreading across her lips. “Hi. I’m Michelle, I’m the director of the Center. Vanjie has told me so much about you.”

_Vanjie._

The name resounded in Brooke’s mind, bouncing against the walls of her head, yet never landing in a place of comprehension. That was Vanessa’s stripper name. The mere thought of the girl having a double life was already too much for Brooke to process, but the fact that she had no problem mixing the two was a whole other level of confusion. There was no shame in what she did, Brooke had learned as much, but Vanessa seemed proud of her profession. She loved to dance, the money was good, the hours were few; the lists of reasons had been more or less convincing. Brooke was trying, but she knew it was going to take a while for her to wrap her mind around it.

She shook Michelle’s hand, still caught up in her thoughts. “I wish I could say the same,” she confessed.

Michelle waved her hand, dismissing the comment. “Don’t worry about it. Things usually slip out of her mind. I mean, I love Vanjie, so much, she’s a beautiful sunbeam, but she can be forgetful.”

Brooke laughed, a warm feeling invading her chest. 

“Thank you so much for what you are doing for us,” Michelle continued. “This competition is super important and we really want to give the judges something they haven’t seen before, to show them who we really are.” She walked around the desk as she spoke, and stopped right next to Brooke. “I know you already got a tour of the place but, come with me, I want to show you something.”

Brooke didn’t protest, she followed the director through a small hallway until they reached a bulletin board. Framed in glitter, tons of pictures adorned the piece of drywall. Brooke took a step forward, her fingers ghosting over the images of smiling families, kids dancing, women in gowns, and men playing basketball. 

“Those are my babies,” Michelle stated proudly. “I feel very lucky, and very blessed to be a part of this community. We have gone through a lot, you know?” It wasn’t really a question, so Brooke didn’t attempt to answer. “Everybody thinks that LA is nothing but glamour and movie stars, they often forget there are families in need too; moms and dads that can’t make ends meet for their kids.”

A nervous chuckle left Brooke’s lips. “I’m from Toronto, and I can assure you those were exactly my thoughts.”

Michelle smiled. “See? That’s why we need to support each other, help one another.”

She then faced Brooke, placing a soft hand on her arm.

“You have no idea what it meant for us when Vanjie and the girls came to help. Not just with the fundraising, everything has been harmonious and beautiful since they started helping out here. That’s because they are authentic to who they are.”

Brooke could only agree. Vanessa had shown nothing but her true self since the moment they met. In a way, Brooke was almost jealous of how Vanessa carried herself so unapologetically. She told Michelle something along those lines.

There was a knowing smile adorning Michelle’s lips when she replied. “Oh, she’s really good at pretending she doesn’t care what others think. I love her, she’s the sweetest thing ever, but she needs to open up, to allow others in and accept the help when it’s available.”

Brooke knew exactly what she meant. “It seems like she’s always trying to fix everything by herself.”

Michelle nodded. “We are always so used to care for others and we forget about us. How do you think I’ve gained all this weight?”

Her rhetorical question encountered a head shake from Brooke. “I think you have a very lovely shape.”

Michelle laughed, but it sounded sad, forced. It didn’t really reach her eyes.

“I think… all I’m saying is that… we really need you, she needs you.”

Brooke didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting the speech to end that way. Vanessa had assured over and over that she had everything under control. Brooke felt as if she was begging Vanessa to let her help. Hearing from Michelle how that confidence was just a facade, how much Vanessa put up a strong front, made Brooke look at her with brand new eyes.

She swallowed the imaginary lump in her throat before Brooke was able to speak again. “It’s my absolute pleasure.”

They walked to the other side of the center, where the dance practices were already in full motion. Brooke spotted Katya at the back of the room, chatting away with Yvie. Brooke knew they were going to hit it off right away; hopefully, they were already discussing the gymnastic aspects of the plan. 

Her attention was immediately called to the opposite direction, when a pop song started playing. Vanessa stood at the front, a group of approximately twenty girls followed her every move. It started slow, with the voice of Britney Spears telling them they needed to work if they wanted to achieve anything in life. It was out of character for Vanessa, who just last week was getting naked to a song with the same theme but a complete different approach. Suddenly the beat dropped, there was the sound of a record scratching, and then the magic happened.

Vanessa whipped her hair from side to side to the rhythm of the remixed version of the original song. The movements were fast, dangerously fast. The scariest part was that the girls behind her never lost a count. Their little heads moved in sync with Vanessa’s as they stomped around the room, changing formations. Every step, every move, and every change of position was perfectly coordinated. They looked like different parts of the same being. The integration of each of the elements of the dance group was like no other Brooke had ever witnessed. They shared the same vision, the same goal. They were one with each other.

The music ended with a bang and they all dropped to the ground at the same time.

Everything was quiet for a second, nothing but their elaborated breathings could be heard.

Brooke didn’t notice she was clapping until her hands stung. Encouraging profanities flew from Katya’s lips, who was standing by her side. She had no recollection of Katya walking her direction.

Vanessa got up with ease, turning to her little dancers. “Alright, y’all, that was nice, that was nice. Now, don’t get too cocky ‘cause them other bitches are gonna be fierce too. I’m not saying we are not, but we gotta be fiercer. So keep on practicing and I wanna see you all here tomorrow, okay? Same time. Don’t be late!”

Her hands closed into fists and rested on her hips. She blinked rapidly, a sign that Brooke had yet to determine what it meant, before she made her way to them.

Katya pushed her playfully as soon as Vanessa was within arms reach. “Oh, my God! That was amazing, you stupid bitch!”

Vanessa smiled shyly, if her face wasn’t already flushed from dancing, she might have blushed at the words. “You really think so? Do you think we have a chance?”

With her mouth opened widely, Katya nodded enthusiastically. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“It was really good,” Brooke assured her. “Really, really good.”

Yvie had made her way to them and joined the conversation. “And just wait until they tell you what they put together for us.”

Suddenly, something seemed to come to Vanessa’s mind. “Oh, shoot!” She turned around, looking desperately around the room. “Ah, good, you haven’t left. Elena, baby, c’mere for a sec.”

Brooke recognized the girl right away. She had been at the park the other day. Even when they had all been amazing, Brooke had a clear memory of this particular girl standing out among the rest. Including during the dance they had just performed, Elena, with her frizzy hair, big smile, and killer moves, had been the focus of attention on more than one occasion.

Katya walked to the sound system and plugged in her phone. “We need you to really pay attention to the song. The whole point of this performance is the interpretation of the lyrics. If you don’t feel it all the way down to your rotten bones, this is not gonna work shit.”

She pressed play and the soft notes of a piano started filling the room.

_She's imperfect, but she tries_  
_She is good, but she lies_  
_She is hard on herself_  
_She is broken and won't ask for help_

Vanessa looked at Brooke, her eyes were tender with understanding. They held each other’s stare as the artist seemed to be singing just for the two of them.

_She is gone, but she used to be mine._

Brooked noticed how Vanessa’s face softened. For a moment, she wasn’t an unstoppable bundle of energy anymore, but a girl caught up in the sentiment of a song. The first tear ran down from Vanessa’s left eye. Her hand quickly moved to get rid of it in a rough motion. Brooke shook her head. Her kind stare told her to let it flow, to allow all feelings to run freely. That was the whole point, that was exactly what was needed. The raw emotion that invaded Vanessa was just the start of the magnificent piece they were about to bring to life, and they could use all the sentiment they could put into it.

“I don’t get it,” Elena spoke as soon as the piano faded out. “She’s a girl singing about another girl?” The question was pronounced, bathed in all her eleven year-old innocence.

Brooke walked to her, sitting on her heels in front of her, just like she had done the first time they met. “The girl is talking to herself, sweetheart. You know, sometimes grown-ups make bad decisions and they get hurt. Sometimes they wish there could be a way to go back in time and be who they were before, before they lost themselves. That’s who she’s singing about, herself. She used to be herself, now she’s not.”

Elena’s face twisted in confusion. 

Brooke had to try a different approach. “Say, do you love Vanessa?” The girl nodded immediately. She didn’t need to think about her answer. “Okay, then, picture you are Vanessa when she was younger. You want to remind her what it’s like to love herself. That way she can try harder to be herself again, the person that you know she can truly be. That’s what the girl is singing about, and that’s the story you need to tell with your dance. Do you think you can do that?”

That seemed to do the trick, there was one more nod and a smile of understanding.

Brooke smiled right along with her. “Let’s get started then.”

An hour later they were all drenched in sweat, exhausted out of their minds, but extremely satisfied. The basics of the choreography had been put together and it promised to look good. 

Vanessa had been struggling a little, since this was not her style at all, but Elena caught on to the vibe right away. She asked questions about the ensemble, clearly trying to figure out the story she needed to tell. Brooke tried to explain that her interpretation was about pain, and disappointment, and how she needed to channel those emotions when dancing. 

It seemed like too much to ask for such a young girl but, as Vanessa had confessed at the next rehearsal, Elena had been through a lot. It wasn’t hard to connect her own heartache to the piece. Brooke didn’t know what the poor kid had gone through but, as traumatic as it was, it worked wonders for her take on the performance.

As it turned out, Elena was an innate dancer. Her moves were sharp and her extensions were long. Either Katya or Yvie worked with her every day and were stunned by such pure talent. She understood the meaning of every step and flowed with ease from one sequence to the next. 

Her connection to Vanessa was one more thing they were surprised with. The two of them simply clicked. They trusted and supported each other in a way that made the performance seem effortless. The result wasn’t as graceful as Brooke had envisioned it, but that only offered an extra level of rawness to the rehearsal.

It was during one of those practices that Brooke could feel the emotion pouring out of their pores as they danced. Vanessa tried to get a grip of Elena and she kept pulling herself away, just like the performance was meant to be. Vanessa dropped to the ground, holding on to Elena’s leg, begging her not to go away. Elena’s free leg went up in the air, her foot reached way higher than her own head, then she brought it back down, forcefully pushing Vanessa away by the shoulder. Elena let out a loud grunt, captivated by the moment.

“That’s right!” Brooke encouraged her. “You are mad. You are angry. Let her know you are hurting.”

As the singer belted out a long note, Elena did just that. With her hands in tight fists, she started crying, spitting words to Vanessa’s face.

“I hate you!” She screamed with passion. “You never pay attention to me! You are always working and leave me with her! She doesn’t love me, she’s mean to me. I hate you both!” She was crying. She kept shouting but her words were distorted by strong sobs shaking her body.

Vanessa tried to hold her, for real this time, but Elena ran out of the room. Vanessa seemed confused for a second before she took off behind her.

Brooke watched the whole scene in surprise. She looked around. Trixie and Nina were stoning some of the costumes. The same expression could be found on their faces. “What was that all about?” She asked aloud, not sure if anybody had heard it.

“Her mom,” Trixie replied.

Nobody brought the topic back up, and rehearsals continued as planned the next day.

More often than not, Brooke found herself mesmerized by the agony in Elena’s performance. Something in her heart ached but she couldn’t bring herself to ask, and Vanessa never mentioned the outburst again. It was something stuck at the back of everybody’s mind, but they knew better than to push the subject.

The day of the competition reached them way too soon. There were still so many things they wanted to go through again, a lot of details that had yet to be sorted out. Trixie and Plastique were still arguing about makeup. Nina still had outfits with pins in them.

None of that mattered when they arrived at the venue. They could hear all the fuss as soon as they got down from the bus, the one that Brooke had specifically rented for them. Excitement ran through their veins, making them jump with anxiety. The Dream Girls were ready to hit the stage.

They found their dressing rooms and Vanessa gathered them around, instructing them to hold hands in a circle. Elena made sure to grab Brooke’s hand and pull her into the group. Vanessa said a prayer in Spanish. It didn’t matter that Brooke couldn’t understand a word, the power of the plea filled her with hope. She closed her eyes with the rest of them and bowed her head down, asking for someone or something from above to give them the strength and wisdom to make it through the event.

As soon as they were done, Vanessa nerves made her start bouncing on her spot. Brooke placed both her hands on Vanessa’s shoulders and looked at her straight in the eye.

“I believe in you,” Brooke assured her.

The tiniest of smiles appeared on Vanessa’s lips. “At least one of us does.”

Brooke shook her head. “Look around you, they all believe in you. They are here because of you. They are strong, because you are their source of strength. Go out there and kill them death. Eat or be eaten, eh?”

An air of determination washed over Vanessa’s face. “Let’s make them eat it!”

Brooke wished them success, reminding them luck was not needed when they were prepared, and went to find her place at the bleachers. It was a funny sight to say the least. Michelle and Nina sat together, engrossed in conversation. Next to them, Trixie and Katya pushed each other playfully; Detox fruitlessly asked them to calm down and Yvie laughed at the pointless request. The biggest contrast was Plastique and Silky, not only in a physical aspect, but Silky’s loud personality had absolutely nothing in common with Plastique’s demure one. Yet, they had somehow clicked and were now talking amicably.

Brooke tried to mentally recount the last few weeks, trying to find the moment when Vanessa’s world became her own and vise versa. She couldn’t find it, and she didn’t mind.

She sat next to her friends with a smile, and waited for the competition to start.

Vanessa hadn’t lied, the other groups were fierce, to say the least. They had more girls, brighter costumes, bigger hairs, tons of props. Their kicks were high and the death drops wouldn’t stop coming, each more extravagant than the last. Music was clearly highly produced as well. The groups presented intricate mixes with lots of changes and effects. Brooke bit her nails remembering the simple fusion they were presenting as a group number, not to mention the clean acapella song they had for the contemporary category.

It took almost an hour before The Dream Girls could take the stage. Vanessa and the girls did as amazing as Brooke thought they were going to. Vanessa spotted them in the audience right away, and she danced for them, and for them alone. It was as if the rest of the viewers had disappeared and she moved for her friends and nobody else. From their seats they clapped and encouraged the girls as they left their all on the vinyl floor.

The song seemed to be done in the blink of an eye. It was unbelievable how weeks of hard work reduced to just a few minutes, lapse that could make the world stop for a group of young girls.

Deliberation couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes but, for everybody in the gym, it felt like an eternity.

Results were given, not even half of the groups would make it to the next round. Everybody held their breath as teams were announced. With each place that was taken, a bit of Brooke’s confidence died. Then she heard it. The Dream Girls had made it. The last spot was theirs. Brooke jumped in her seat, screaming in utter delight. She didn’t even notice that she was crying until she tasted salt on her lips. The group started hugging each other as they cheered for the girls. They had made it to the next round.

The wait wasn’t as long this time, even when Vanessa and Elena were the last ones to perform their contemporary dance. Brooke felt extremely confident. The other numbers had been good, but she knew nobody was expecting what they had prepared. 

The piano started playing and Brooke’s breath caught in her throat. She watched Vanessa and Elena pour their hearts into the dance. 

Vanessa crawled across the floor, trying to reach Elena, who turned around and escaped her grip with a foot high in the air. Vanessa was visibly crying by the middle of the song. She missed a few counts but Elena covered for her just fine, imitating the half step Vanessa had skipped to make it look like a canon move. The girl was smart, she was hitting every mark on tempo. She was basically perfect in every form.

Tension was building as they performed a battle of emotions in front of the entire gymnasium. Then the long note came blasting from the speakers. Elena didn’t hold back. She screamed and yelled and cried and sobbed. Her exact words couldn’t be made out but they were not needed. The action was enough to have the audience shedding tears right along with her.

Vanessa kept begging forgiveness, reminded her that she was loved, that she was worth the world, that she mattered, that she was important. Her yelling was louder than Elena’s.

Between sobs and screaming they stopped fighting, they hugged each other, and let everything go inside the other’s arms. Elena bent down, placing one hand under Vanessa’s knees and the other in her back, she picked her up. That wasn’t part of the dance, but she needed it. Vanessa pressed herself against the girl’s chest and her knees gave out. They slowly descended to the floor, curled as close together as it was humanly possible, as the music slowly reached the end of the song.

Silence invaded the room, not a single sound was emitted from the over two hundred people in the place. Then someone sniffed, that was enough to take everybody out of their trance. There were claps, cheers, whistling, and a lot of tears.

Elena and Vanessa got up, their faces were stained with tears, makeup smudged carelessly down their cheeks. Their eyes were wide in disbelief when they were able to register the response from the audience. Everybody was on their feet, giving them the standing ovation they deserved. Wide smiles took over their faces as they thanked the public and ran out to the dressing room area.

Nobody was surprised when they made it to the final round. 

The Dance Offs were next. They had practiced, they were prepared for them. The top five dancers had each picked their solo and knew exactly what they needed to do. If everything went as planned, they practically had the entire thing in the bag. They could save the community center.

After a short break. The leader of each dance group pulled out a piece of paper, determining their opponent. 

Begging for them to get anyone but one particular group, The AAA Girls, Brooke closed her eyes as Elena placed her hand inside the bowl. Such was her luck, that specific name was written on the paper. The girls were older, more experienced, had bigger budgets. Brooke regretted not insisting more, she could have put in more money to make their girls look better. Vanessa had assured that their technique and personality was going to be enough, that everybody was there for the money, that nobody was going to show up with big stage settings. 

Vanessa had been wrong.

It was fine. Everything was going to be okay. If she repeated it enough times, Brooke could make herself believe it. She needed to believe it. The team needed her support. Everything was going to be okay.

The music started, one at the time the girls faced their adversary. The AAA Girls were good, really good. They had been warned about it, but this was something else. Their movements were sensual and exaggerated. They would dance all around the gym, claiming the floor as theirs. They had confidence and the skills to back it up.

Brooke sat at the edge of her seat, and bit the side of her thumb. The Dream Girls were doing okay, but she didn’t think it was going to be enough. If she were the judge in that situation, she would give it to the other team. That was unacceptable. She needed to do something, anything. They couldn’t have gotten so far, worked this hard, to have their dream taken away.

It was the last turn. The girl from AAA was absolutely killing it. Brooke could see the girl from their group was nervous, even if she tried to hide it by looking annoyed. Her turn was up in a few seconds and it was easy to tell she felt anything but ready.

Suddenly, the tune of a familiar song started playing, Brooke remembered fooling around to it during one of the rehearsals. She got an idea.

“Yvie, come on!”

She didn’t even give her time to react, Brooke was already running to the main floor. She let her hair down from the bun, the blonde waves cascading all the way down to her waist. Her skirt was dropped somewhere around the stairs and the shirt fell right after, leaving her in nothing but her bright pink leotard.

Yvie was not far behind, unsure of what was going on, but always game.

They moved sexily around the floor, making sure that all eyes were on them. As soon as the chorus hit, Yvie did a somersault, landing right on the face of the other team. 

Brooke spun around, knowing fully well that she could do a triple pirouette without a problem, and dropped to her knees dramatically.

Yvie supported herself on her head, her legs going up and fanning out above her. Brooke copied the move, letting all her weight to fall on her neck and shoulder as she did bicycle kicks in the air. She lowered herself and landed on a split, bouncing on her spread legs as she pretended to check on her nails. They had to let the other team know that kicking their asses was just that effortless.

A loud bang indicated the end of the Dance Off. Brooke was laughing. Her whole body felt on fire. She couldn’t stand still, electricity traveled through her body. She could hear nothing but the beating of her own heart, and the faint sound of cheering in the far distance. 

Next thing she knew, Elena’s arms were around her, thanking her for saving them. She expected Vanessa to approach her as well, to congratulate her for the amazing performance. Her eyes travelled around the place, trying to find her to celebrate their victory. Nothing could have prepared her for what she found.

Vanessa stood to the side, her arms tight around her torso, and her face showing nothing but anger.

Brooke walked to her, unable to hide the smile. “Hey! I’m pretty sure we just won this bitch, don’t you think?”

A slow head shake answered her question. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Vanessa’s lips were a thin line. She spun around and stomped her way back to the dressing rooms, leaving Brooke standing alone and confused. 

How could she be mad when they had definitely just won?

The audience was going insane, clapping and cheering, ecstatic about the performance they had just watched.

One of the judges requested everybody to settle down, and reminded them the rules of the Dance Offs. He read the pointers but there was only one that needed to be heard. Everything became background noise as they understood what had just happened.

The little stunt Yvie and Brooke had just pulled was enough reason to eliminate The Dream Girls from the competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so so much for taking the time to read this story.


	4. Four.

Chapter 4

_We need to talk about this._

Vanessa read the message on her lockscreen and rolled her eyes. It was no different from the ever flowing string of texts sitting unread on her phone. She pressed the side button to turn the screen black, and put the device face down on the table.

She looked at herself in the mirror, half way through her makeup process, and sighed heavily.

Life had never been easy for her, and she had a special talent to make everything a lot more complicated than it should be. She wished to blame it all on destiny, or fate, or whoever was above that liked to mess with her. She couldn’t. She knew that _la virgencita_ had a lot more issues to worry about than a Puertorican stripper trying to make a life for herself in Los Angeles.

It wasn’t that bad, really. She liked her friends, she liked her job, and she liked her tiny apartment. She liked her life. She knew she wasn’t dumb, but she kept making stupid decisions. That was on her.

The phone vibrated again. The sudden flash made her close her eyes, the black pencil left a trail of eyeliner on her temple to the movement. 

_Shit._

She looked around but couldn’t find her makeup wipes. Everything looked messy, everything _was_ messy. The table in front of her was as cluttered as her own head. It felt like a never ending jungle of ideas up in there, tangled together and clouding any rational thinking. If her thought process had ever been rational, that was. Sure, her mind usually ran fast, leaving her a very small chance to catch up. She was aware of that. Her mouth was even faster, not waiting for her brain to approve the thought before it was already being pronounced. It got her into trouble constantly, but she liked it like that. It was fun, it was entertaining. 

If she had to choose, she would pick her chaotic life a million times over a boring one. That didn’t mean that she didn’t need a break from time to time. She could use one right that instant.

A Kleenex, being waved in front of her face, landed her back into reality.

With her eyes, she followed the arm holding the tissue to find Yvie smiling nervously at her.

She twisted her lips, her own smile even less convincing than her friend’s. “Thanks.”

Yvie’s eyes rolled in annoyance. 

Vanessa managed to catch it, that was enough to make her snap. “What you rolling your eyes for?” 

Her voice was harsh, she could hear it herself, but there was no stopping now. She had all this frustration inside of her, and there was no available outlet. Better yet, she didn’t have the guts to go and tell how she felt to the right person. If she wanted to pick up a fight, just for the sake of getting the anger out, she knew exactly whose buttons to push.

“You can’t stay mad at me forever,” Yvie retorted.

“Just watch me, bitch.”

“Seriously?” Yvie spoke to her through the mirror. “You are still gonna be pressed about this shit? I already apologized, told you how things happened, and you said you forgave me. What’s all this attitude for?”

Vanessa’s hand went up in the air, waving away Yvie’s comment. “I ain’t giving you no attitude, so don’t get me started on that.”

The huff that left Yvie’s nose was filled with frustration. “I’m gonna be forward about how I feel, because you know that’s the only way I know how to go about things.”

“Fierce. Work,” Vanessa let out sarcastically, her eyes on the vanity in front of her, looking for something, she had already forgotten what it was.

“I’m not gonna come here with excuses. We screwed up, but it wasn’t intentional. We didn’t know. I’m gonna be real with you: not knowing the rules doesn’t condone us breaking them, but you are being too hard on us.”

For a moment, they almost forgot there was someone else in the room, until Trixie spoke. “Okay, so my dance knowledge may extend to, like, Dance Moms and a bunch of Abby Lee memes but, what exactly happened?” She walked to stand between them, makeup brush in hand, successfully creating a physical barrier in the battlefield that had been preparing. “Isn’t there like an age restriction for these things? Why were you able to dance but not them?” 

Both Vanessa and Yvie looked at each other, silently pondering who should give the explanation, even when Trixie pronounced the question directly to Vanessa.

With a sigh, Vanessa turned around on her seat, facing them for the first time. “Okay, so like, yeah. Not the group challenges. There was no age limita… limi-lim… there was no age limit, okay?” She hated when that happened, when being bilingual became _zerolingual_ and she was unable to speak either language properly. She continued either way, like she always did. “We just had to turn in a list of all the dancers’ names for the Dance Off, so they knew, you know, who was participating and shit. We could only bring those five, and there was no changing them. Any last minute change had to be approved by the judges.”

Trixie nodded her head, finally understanding the disqualification. 

Yvie looked at the ground for a minute, before complementing the clarification. “We didn’t know, or I didn’t, I don’t know about Brooke. If she did, I think she was too into the moment to remember.”

“Don’t worry,” Trixie said, her voice softer than usual. “We will get the money somehow. I mean, if this was Brooke’s fault maybe she can put in the money we lost because of her.” She laughed at her own words, oblivious to the fact that Brooke had already offered, many, many times.

Vanessa sat back down, planning to return her attention to the task at hand. “Whatever. I’m not talking to that hoe no more.”

The seat next to her was occupied by Yvie, her long fingers started applying foundation directly from the container. “I know Brooke has been texting you,” she spoke carefully. “You haven’t replied or taken any of her calls. What’s the deal with that?”

“It don’t fucking matter now,” Vanessa tried to close the subject.

Of course, Yvie wouldn’t be her true self if she didn’t push the subject, any subject. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Of course it does. She’s been miserable this whole week and you won’t even give her the chance to apologize. You just keep pushing her away.”

Vanessa whipped her head to look at her, her hair flying to rest on her opposite shoulder. “What good is it to ya, bitch?” She was raising her voice again, but Yvie had taunted her. “What do you care so much about this whole mess? This ain’t your motherfucking business, so don’t act like you know what you are talking about.”

“I say the truth.” Yvie matched her tone of voice. “I call bitches out, you know that. So don’t come for me as if this is some new shit. You are always pushing people away. Here you have an amazing person, willing to help you, willing to help the cause, but you have your head way up your ass and can’t see it. It’s fucking selfish.”

“Oh, is that how you really feel? I’m selfish now, okay. What happened to all the _wooty-wooty-woot_ you was crying to me about the other night? About you being my sis and us kicking it and shit?”

She wasn’t going to start a fight again, Yvie took a deep breath and calmed herself down. “That was real, girl. I’m saying you are selfish with yourself. Give yourself a chance to open up. Nobody achieves anything alone, we all need help from time to time, and it’s okay to accept it.”

The room fell quiet, because Yvie was right. Trixie knew it, even Vanessa knew it herself. There was no way she would give her the satisfaction to know that, though. She was ready to fight back, her feisty side was coming up with a million and one responses to her friend’s allegations. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was some actual self restriction, but words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Her mind was yelling at her, telling her to attack, to go for the jugular, to defend herself, but nothing came out. She simply sat there, eyeshadow pallet up in the air, lips mutely parted in shock.

“Are you ready for a show?” 

The sultry voice called everybody’s attention away from the uncomfortable stare battle. They turned around just to see Katya dramatically pressing herself against the doorframe.

The first one to react was Trixie, who screamed in delight and motioned her to come in. Katya did as she was told, moving around as if she had known that dressing room her entire life. She found her rightful place on Trixie’s lap, her legs swinging in between Trixie’s opened ones.

“Ew.” She shuddered dramatically. “What is all this tension? Jesus.” Her hands swatted the air, as if she were trying to keep flies away from her face.

Trixie hid her face in Katya’s neck before pointed at the pair. “They are fighting over Brooke.”

“Brooke?” Katya asked surprised. “Did you finally talk to her?”

“No!” Yvie answered for Vanessa. “That’s what has her so upset, because she’s too stubborn to listen and try to fix things.”

A small _fuck you_ sounded under her breath, but Vanessa didn’t say anything to deny the statement. It wasn’t that she didn’t have much to say. Nobody really knew what had indeed happened, nobody understood her relationship with Brooke. Hell, even she was unsure if there even was one. Brooke was always so poised and distant. She acted so professional that it was hard to understand if she really cared or if the whole situation had been a business venture for her.

It was while trying to unravel that mystery that something Katya said called her attention. “You know, I was probably her first charity case, a long-long time ago.”

Vanessa spun around to see Katya. “What you talking about?”

Katya twisted in Trixie’s lap, unable to separate from her for one second, and faced Vanessa. “Oh, Momma, I was a mess. I had these massive episodes of anxiety. They kept me from... doing anything, really. I couldn’t keep a job, almost dropped out of school. The whole shit show.” There was a nervous smile playing on her lips. “I was really good at hiding how horrible things were, like, mad good. Brooke noticed I was acting differently when she came home during a tour break. She helped me through community college, and gave me a job as soon as I was out. Haven’t left each other’s side since then.”

“You’ve known each other for a long time, then?” Yvie asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

“Oh, we go way back. I hated Canada when my dad was first transferred. Hated it! Brooke lived next door to us in this Godforsaken neighborhood. Brooke told me about this gymnastics class they had at the same community center where she took ballet. We–”

“Community center?” Vanessa interrupted her.

“Yes, bitch!” Katya replied, exasperated. “Why do you think her bony ass is set to save yours? She knows how important they are for the kids. It reminds her of where we grew up. That’s when her dancing career started. It’s a really big deal for her.”

It felt like a bucket of cold water had fallen on top of Vanessa. She had no idea Brooke had gone through any of that.

“Of course you didn’t.” It looked like she said those words out loud, because Katya was responding to her very thoughts. “She doesn’t like to talk about that, about how stinking poor we were. We made it out, that’s all that matters, I guess,” she said with the shrug of one shoulder. “She worked so hard and became this amazing woman who gives back as much as she can. I’m so proud of her.”

The words resounded in Vanessa’s ears. This was a whole new side of Brooke that she didn’t even know existed. It was unimaginable that the picture perfect Brooke she knew had, at some point of her life, had literally nothing. Of course it wasn’t a nice feeling to learn about another person’s pain and suffering, but a new level of humanity had been revealed and Vanessa was struggling to comprehend what it meant.

Thoughts of a young Brooke, having the mere minimum to survive, ran across her head as she finished her makeup. She didn’t know shit about Canada, but she knew hardship, and she knew it well. Vanessa pictured Brooke going to bed without dinner, curling up in a ball, and begging sleep to distract her from the hunger. Because that was what Vanessa had done. The same scene she remembered from her own childhood played in her head, but in Brooke’s there was snow. She did know Canada had snow.

Mental images took her away from the conversation around her, until she was done getting ready. A few minutes before their show started, Silky walked into the room, which forced Katya to say her goodbyes.

“So, will I see you guys at the gala tomorrow?” She asked, swinging in Trixie’s arms, who held her from behind.

The girls agreed in unison, but Vanessa had no idea what they were talking about. 

“Wha-what gala?”

“This is our last week here, we always have a big charity event before the closing night,” Katya explained. “I gave Trixie the tickets. You should all come. It’s super fun. There are auctions that go insane. Rich people get so competitive and bid on, like, eccentric trips to Europe and stuff, and all goes to charity. I’m offering a private gymnastic class.”

“I signed up for a night out and dance,” Trixie intervened.

“Yeah, and I’m emptying my savings account ‘cause you ain’t dancing for anybody else, Barbara.” Katya spun in Trixie’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Ew! Go away. You are leaving red lipstick on my face!”

Katya lifted an eyebrow but did nothing to move. “I don’t remember you complaining about my lipstick last night.” The tone of her voice left nothing to imagination.

Trixie screamed in surprise. “I don’t remember your lips being on my face, though.”

That was all Silky could take. “Alright, girl, you need to take your nasty ass out of here, right now!”

Between laughs and giggles was that Katya stepped out of the room. Her words still going round and round in Vanessa’s head. All the information she had just acquired made it hard to concentrate. Her set was more or less okay, even if it wasn’t up to her own standards. She did make some money that night, but it wasn’t much. 

There was no way she was going to be able to save the center, not in the two weeks they had left before the demolition. As much money as she could put in from her tips, there was simply not enough to spare. So, as she was counting dollar bills in the dressing room, like she did after every show, an idea hit her.

She found Trixie and explained she wanted to sign up for the charity event as well. She could do the dinner and dance thing, just like her. 

A quick phone call to Katya arranged everything and they were given all the necessary information.

Vanessa learned that she needed to wear a gown, it was a gala after all. Her picture was going to be taken upon arrival. That picture with her name, along with the cause she was supporting, were going to be displayed during the cocktail hour. Once the auction started, she was going to be pulled up to the front. By then, a list of what the night out would entail should have already been given to her. The bidding would be live, and the highest offer would win. 

Katya promised no funny business should be involved, unless both parties agreed to it. But Vanessa was sure that was more of a reminder for Trixie than her. 

It sounded simple, really. Yet, when they arrived at the event, Vanessa couldn’t help but feel anxious. 

She had heard about the Beverly Hilton before. She had known of fancy events taking place there. She never, not in a million years, imagined she was going to be an actual guest at that venue. There were people tending to her every need, helping her down from the car, taking her coat, walking her inside, and showing her to her table. 

For what it was worth, she liked to think that she was a really good actress. She thanked people as if she were used to that type of treatment, and moved around the place with a confidence she didn’t have. She could only hope her acting was believable enough to make her look like she belonged, or at least to make her look less stupid than her friends.

Trixie, Yvie and Silky walked behind her, excitingly whispering and pointing at every single thing that called their attention.

When they reached their table, another wave of insecurity washed over Vanessa. They had been told how to dress, but their most elegant gowns were nothing in comparison to the ladies around them. Vanessa’s group clearly stood out from the crowd of fancy dark-colored dresses, with sparkling embellishments that clearly weren’t rhinestones. 

She wore a short red dress that fell over one shoulder, every inch of exposed skin had been covered with glitter. She needed to look expensive, so shining like gold had sounded like a good idea. Yvie wore a green gown, it seemed pretty normal if nobody looked at the train, where a small Hot Wheels car had been attached to it. Trixie was living her Barbie Doll fantasy in a puffy pink dress and a bow that was probably as big as her head. The cherry on top was Silky, who wasn’t really that far off from the dress code, but had her fake church lady voice on as she talked to the other guests.

It became too much. Vanessa excused herself and made her way to the bathroom. Even that space was fancy as shit. At the entrance, there was a small corridor with mirrors all around her. Vanessa analyzed herself from every possible angle before stepping inside the restroom. There were two paths after the second door, one led to a room with at least five vanity desks. Each space had a mirror with big fat light bulbs around it. There was a stack of towels on one side of the table, and a blowdryer and a flat iron rested on the other end.

The other hallway led to the stalls, and that was where Vanessa walked to. She opened the water tap, just to give herself something to do. She read the labels on the many bottles in front of her as she wetted her hands. The cold water worked to calm her nerves down. She didn’t know what she was doing there. Whoever thought it was a good idea to show up at that place, with it’s fancy people, overly nice waiters, and expensive towels, had been crazy. Shaking her head she reminded herself the true reason why she was there. She needed the money.

A door behind her opened. That was when she saw her. Brooke walked out of the stall. She had her blonde hair pulled back as always, as the ballerina that she was. A blue velvet dress hugged every single curve of one side of her body, while the other half gave a nude illusion, an intricate flower design covered her most intimate areas. She looked good. Really good.

“Hi,” she spoke to Vanessa through the mirror. “Katya told me you were coming.”

It took a moment for Vanessa to reply, her eyes lingering in the placement of certain petals. “Yeah, well, she told us some big pockets were gonna be around. We had to try our luck, you know?”

Brooke smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey, umm, I’m sorry. I…” she trailed off, her voice getting caught in her throat.

Before she could say anything, Vanessa shook her hand in the air. “No. Don’t worry about it. I get it. I’m the one that’s sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she insisted.

Vanessa chuckled. “Is this gonna be one of those ‘no, you hang up’ kinda bullshit?”

This time the smile lit up Brooke’s face completely. “Not necessarily, but I do need you to know that I can’t apologize enough. I called everyone I knew. I tried to fix this. I tried, Vanessa, I really did.”

Her voice told her that she was being honest. Vanessa believed her. She was just about to tell her that when Trixie came running through the maze of hallways.

“There you are, bitch! C’mon. Katya needs us.”

She looked at Brooke for a moment, not really knowing what to say but not wanting the conversation to end like that. “Listen, I…”

“You have to go,” Brooke finished for her. “It’s fine. We can talk later.”

By the time she was done pronouncing the sentence, Trixie was already dragging Vanessa by the wrist. 

They reached the main stage just in time to see how a ceramic plate was sold for eight thousand dollars. 

“Now for the next item, we have a pleasant night out, including dinner and dancing with Miss Vanessa Mateo.” She stepped into the center of the stage as the auctioneer read her qualities as if she were a car on sale. “Originally from Puerto Rico, Miss Mateo is a twenty-four year old dance teacher, who’s donation will go to…”

Vanessa tuned out after that. She played the part, smiling, walking around, and fluttering her eyelashes like it was her trademark move. But she had never in her life felt more exposed; and she danced naked around a pole for a living. It made her feel cheap but, when she saw the first paddle being lifted, she realized there was nothing cheap about the situation.

“A thousand,” yelled a man on the front table.

Another paddle was lifted. “Two thousand.”

“I have three thousand on the phone,” said an operator to their side.

Vanessa stood still as the bids went up one thousand at the time. She could only see numbers on white pieces of cardboard as a man offered more than the previous one. The auctioneer spoke fast, and the paddles move faster. Before she knew it, someone was offering ten thousand dollars to take her out for dinner. 

Then a voice came from the far end of the room. “Twenty thousand dollars,” the woman said, her tone firm and inflexible.

“Twenty thousand going once, going twice…” There was an unnecessary pause, nobody was going to top that bidding. “Sold to buyer number five.”

Vanessa looked around, spotting the number on the paddle first, and Brooke’s smile second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
-Monkey.


	5. Five.

Chapter 5

“I just don’t understand what you are so mad about,” Yvie spoke from her position on the bed. She was laying on her back, throwing a ball in the air and catching it when it bounced back from the low ceiling.

Trixie yelled from the other room. Her voice was muffled as she tried on yet another dress. “You got the money, plus you get to go out with a cute girl. Win - win, bitch.” There was a moment of silence, and then the click-clack of heels getting closer. 

Yivie sat up straight. “When was the last time you went on a date, Vanjie?”

Vanessa looked up from her spot on her bed, right next to Yvie’s. She was still wrapped in a towel. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there, but her hair had dried already.

“This ain’t no date.”

Her answer was pronounced just as Trixie walked in, rolling her eyes. “The thing literally says dinner and dancing,” she reminded Vanessa, her tone of voice made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. “Isn’t that what normal people do on dates?”

“Since when are we normal?” Vanessa asked with a twist of her lips.

Trixie laughed and twirled in front of the mirror, holding her dress to get a better view of it. She looked beautiful, and she knew it. Vanessa didn’t have to point it out. Still, she couldn’t help but compare herself to her friend. Trixie had taken hours just to get ready for her date with Katya. She had been exuding happiness ever since the night before when, just as promised, Katya had paid an exaggerated amount just to take her out. Of course, it had been nowhere near what Brooke paid, but it was still a lot of money. Vanessa was no expert in math but, with Brooke’s and Katya’s donation, they should at least be close to their goal to save the center.

Yvie’s question resounded in her head. Vanessa really didn’t have a reason to be mad. Was she even mad? She knew anger, and that was not was she was feeling. There was something, there was a strong, unidentified emotion invading her senses. She felt as if she were walking underwater, but she didn’t know what she needed to break back to surface. 

“Look what I got for Katya.” Trixie bounced on the bed next to Vanessa, bursting her out of her bubble. Trixie opened a small box to reveal a pair of earrings. They were two plastic circles with green and black rhinestones in the middle, shaped in the form of eyes.

Yvie scooted forward to take a look as well. “Oh, my God. Those are so weird and perfect. Your girlfriend is gonna love them.”

Her shoulders shimmied with excitement as Trixie put the box back into her purse. “She’s not my girlfriend, though. We don’t want to talk about that until their tour is over. You know they are leaving next weekend.” Trixie pouted childishly, before turning to Vanessa. “Have you and Brooke talked about that?”

“‘Bout what?” Vanessa asked confused.

“About what’s going to happen to you guys when she’s gone,” Trixie clarified.

Vanessa looked at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head. “What would we do that for?”

Now it was Yvie’s turn to roll her eyes. “Girl, c’mon.”

“No!” Vanessa heard herself snapping. “Don’t ‘girl, come on’ me. I seriously don’t know where you are getting all this bullshit from.”

The ground was once again being settled for battle. Trixie did not have the time nor patience to go through yet another match between Yvie and Vanessa. She placed a hand on Yvie’s arms and nodded slightly, physically communicating an ‘I’ve got this’.

“Okay, you have been avoiding it for way too long, let’s talk about this. What’s up with you and Brooke?”

Vanessa shook her head, her hands going up in the air dramatically. “That’s the problem here. Nothing’s up. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Do you wish there was?” Trixie asked carefully. 

The subject was being pushed, Vanessa knew as much. But she also knew Trixie was not coming after her, she was simply trying to help her, letting her know it was safe to talk about her feelings.

It took a moment for Vanessa to reply. To be able to answer her friend’s question, she needed to really think about what she felt. Although, she didn’t have any actual feelings for Brooke, not really. Sure, Vanessa enjoyed spending time with her while they were preparing for the competition. It was during the event that things went south. Still, that didn’t say much about the status of their relationship, if there even was one. They were not even friends. They were two strangers who happened to come together for the same cause.

Then why did Vanessa feel her heart clenching every time she saw Brooke?

How come it had taken every ounce of will-power to stop herself from picking up Brooke’s calls?

Why did Vanessa’s days seem so empty when she wasn’t texting Brooke every other minute?

“I... the fuck do I know?” Vanessa stood up, pacing the small space between the beds. “Even if I did, even if there was a teeny-tiny idea somewhere in the back of my head, it’s not like anything can happen, you know? She’s always, like, traveling around the stupid world, going to, like, fucking Atlantis or some other weird place I can’t even pronounce.”

“That’s not a valid reason,” Trixie pointed out. “If you really wanna make things work, you will figure it out. That’s what Katya and I will be doing.”

Vanessa snapped her fingers in front of her, rejecting Trixie’s comment. “No, Mamma, but you and Katya are declared lesbians. You were probably renting the damn moving truck on your first date.” There was no denying, Trixie simply laughed as Vanessa continued. “I don’t even know if Brooke likes girls,” she confessed, her voice getting smaller with each word.

“Well, has Katya mentioned anything about Brooke being queer?” Yvie asked Trixie, who shook her head no.

“Nah. I mean she hasn’t said what Brooke is, but Katya believes everybody should be at least a little gay. So don’t trust her as a source.”

Yvie nodded, laughing softly. “Okay, then, why don’t you take tonight as your chance to figure that out?” Her question was directed to Vanessa. “Of course, you need to figure out what _you_ want first, otherwise, you won’t know what to do with the information she’s gonna give you.”

With a grunt, Vanessa left the room and went into the bathroom.

The subject was dropped or, better yet, it was left hanging in the air. Vanessa ran a brush through her hair, and still felt the bunch of questions flying above her head. She decided to leave them there, scared to pick even one down and give it an actual answer. If she ignored them, if she didn’t pay attention to the latent doubts of her heart, she could pretend as if they were not there and carry on her merry destructive way.

She didn’t spend more time than usual putting her makeup on, Vanessa didn’t think so, at least. She picked a green dress that showed off her shoulders, which meant that she had to style her hair to fall on her back. The black gloves were probably a little much, but she needed them to match the black bra that stuck out from the top of her dress. The long earrings were definitely a lot, she decided as she waited outside to be picked up. It wasn’t as if she could change them now.

A black SUV parked right in front of her, and she recognized it to be Brooke’s. Vanessa saw a short guy getting down, he walked around the vehicle, and opened the door to the back seat.

“Hi, good evening. I’m Ben,” he said with a huge smile as he waved frantically at her. “We haven’t been properly introduced, but I know you are Vanessa.” He extended his hand to her. As soon as Vanessa took it, she was regretting it. Ben shook her hand with much more strength than necessary. “Have heard so many things about you.”

She tried not to flinch and waited until her hand was released. “Only the good ones, I hope,” Vanessa joked as she rubbed one hand with the other, trying to get rid of the faint pain on the bones of her fingers.

Ben laughed loudly. “I was informed you were exceptionally funny, yes. Now, come on, jump in. Brooke is already waiting at the restaurant.”

Vanessa eyed the opened door, then craned her neck to look through the passenger's seat window. “Is anybody else coming?” 

Never losing the smile, even when confusion was clear on his features, Ben shook his head. “Just the two of us.”

“Then why am I riding in the back? I call shotgun, bitch!”

“Ah, of course! As you wish.”

Part of the car ride was done with Vanessa quietly looking out the window, as Ben hummed softly behind the wheel. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simply two people pleasantly sharing the same space. The light atmosphere helped Vanessa gather the courage to ask a few questions. If she was there to figure out what the deal with Brooke was, she should gather information from all available sources.

“Yo, Ben,” Vanessa started, moving herself so she could face him completely, her back was flat against the door. “You been working with Brooky for long?”

The driver threw a quick glance in her direction, before returning his attention to the road. “About ten years or so.”

Vanessa nodded. “Mmhmm-mmhmm. So you are, like, her personal assistant or somethin’?”

Ben chuckled softly. “Not at all. I’m just her driver when she’s in Los Angeles.”

Her eyes grew wide. “She has a driver at every city she goes to?”

This time, Ben’s laughter boomed loudly inside the confined space. “It’s not like that. I’m pretty sure she only hires me because of the history we have.”

“Oh, so you have history together, like…” Vanessa didn’t want to really say the word, so she tried to move her hands in a way that they could express what she was thinking. She probably looked dumb crashing her palms together like that.

“Jesus, no!” Ben looked offended, as if she had just said the craziest thing in the world. “She’s an amazing friend. She got me a job when I needed one, which helped me start my own car and limo rental. Usually, I’m not the one driving these days, but it’s the least I can do for her. She’s truly an amazing person.”

“Yeah,” Vanessa whispered. “Heard that one before”

The thought stayed with her for the next few minutes. Since they met, Vanessa had heard nothing but amazing things about Brooke, about how she was always willing to help her friends, and how she used her financial advantage in favor of others. The thing that struck Vanessa the most, was Brooke’s background story. It was hard to picture Brooke as anything other than wealthy. She was always throwing money away, seemingly carelessly. It didn’t really look like she was a person who had to struggle for it; or maybe that was just it, Brooke had fought so hard to get where she was financially, that she wanted to help others get to that point.

Vanessa was still trying to unravel her thoughts when her door was opened. A nice gentleman helped her down, and Ben went around the car to inform him that Vanessa was there for the reservation under ‘Hytes’. The men shared a nod and Vanessa was led inside.

The restaurant was elegant. People in fancy clothes sat around small tables, instrumental music played as background noise, mixing with the sounds of their conversations. Vanessa observed them as she allowed the maître d' to navigate their way to the back of the place. They went around a thin wall and the head of waiters slid a door open.

“Miss Hytes is already waiting for you.”

Just as he promised, Brooke stood up from her chair as soon as Vanessa walked in. The place was small, Vanessa wouldn’t dare to call it intimate; but there was nobody else but them in the private room. A single table was set in the middle of the space, two chairs placed across from each other. Red roses and short candles adorned the middle of the table. There was a bucket with a probably expensive wine next to it.

As her eyes travelled through the room, Vanessa didn’t notice that Brooke had walked to her.

“Hi,” Brooke greeted her, taking hold of Vanessa’s shoulders and kissing the air on each side of her cheeks. “I told them this wasn’t necessary,” she clarified. “The owner insisted.”

“Is this for reals?” Vanessa’s hand moved vaguely around them. 

Brooke nodded almost apologetically. “Come. Sit.”

Vanessa hadn’t noticed the young man was still there, patiently waiting for their awkward greetings to be done, until he moved to help Brooke back into her seat. She thanked him with a polite smile and he moved to pull out Vanessa’s chair, so she could sit opposite to Brooke. He offered them large leather folders that listed the food available, and excused himself.

The menu was in French, or maybe Italian. Vanessa could try and recognize some of the words, because they looked a lot like Spanish, but she wasn’t sure.

“Oh, child. These numbers better be the calories count, ‘cause there’s no way those are the prices.”

Brooke laughed cordially, because that was how people were expected to laugh at places like that one. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my treat.”

“Nah, you already paid too much money. Lemme cover this one thing.” Vanessa had her purse between her leg and the armrest of the chair, she clutched it closer to her body nervously. She had stuffed two wrinkled fifty dollar bills in there and, right before she left the apartment, she took her credit card with her. She wasn’t planning on using it, it was an afterthought in case of emergencies. The situation didn’t really qualify as an emergency, but there was no doubt the card was going to be needed.

The soft music was barely audible, yet Brooke’s seemed to recognize the melody and her head would bob to the rhythm. Vanessa had to admit that, if anything, Brooke belonged in this elegant environment. The blonde hair that was usually pulled back tightly was now flowing down in soft waves. Brooke’s eyes had heavy makeup around them and her lips were bright red. She looked graceful, refined, in her element.

Vanessa felt everything but those. 

Placing her menu down, Vanessa took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Hey, so, umm, this place is, like, very pretty and all but…” she made a pause, really trying to pick her words to express what she was thinking without hurting Brooke’s feelings. “I just… I don’t know. I feel all weird in here.”

Brooke followed her moves and closed the menu. “Really, you don’t have to worry about the money.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s not that,” Vanessa promised, even when it was very much that.

“Then what is it?” The tone of Brooke’s voice was dry, almost annoyed, and Vanessa had to review her words just to make sure she hadn’t said anything that could be upsetting.

“I just don’t like it here, okay? I feel very uncomfortable,” she stopped when she saw Brooke’s face fall. “Okay. Never mind. Forget I said anything. Look, I get it, you paid a lot for this. This is your night out, and we are gonna do whatever you like. I shouldn’t be complaining. I’m sorry.”

There was a beat of silence. Vanessa could feel her cheeks getting hotter as Brooke looked at her, analyzing her features like a trained scanner.

Brooke’s elbow came to rest on the table and her chin landed on her fist. “Why do you dislike me so much?”

The question took Vanessa by surprise. Out of all the things that she had expected to come from her rambling, that was definitely not one of them. Vanessa knew she hadn’t really given any signs that she didn’t like Brooke. Actually, she had feared she had shown a little more interest than she was getting in return. Of course, she wasn’t just about to let Brooke know that. Vanessa tried not to look away from Brooke’s searching eyes. They simply stared at each other as the question became heavier and heavier between them. 

Finally, an answer came. “Girl, you wilding.” Vanessa knew that wasn’t an actual explanation, but she wasn’t sure she could deal walking down that path.

Brooke retrieved her arms, letting her hands fall on her lap. “I know you have been told about my upbringing. I completely disagree with the way the facts were delivered to you. That is delicate information that, no offense, you had no business finding out, even less if it didn’t come directly from me. Yes, I do come from a bad neighborhood, and you must think that gives you an idea of who I am. You probably think differently of me by now, so I am more than happy to clarify any doubts, if you have any.”

“There’s nothing wrong with–” Vanessa tried to intervene but was interrupted.

“I know there isn’t. I also know my past doesn’t define me. I made a name for myself. I am a hard working, talented, successful woman who doesn’t give up until she achieves her goals.”

“Bitch, you forgot humble, too,” Vanessa added with a chuckle.

Brooke’s face broke into a grin. “One should never minimize their gifts. Those are meant to be shown, talked about, bragged about.” Her hands went up in the air exaggeratedly, provoking a loud laugh from Vanessa.

“Aight, aight. Well, did you know I have a gift for finding the best tacos in town?” Vanessa wiggled her eyebrows, but got no immediate reply. “Please,” she tried a different approach. “Can we do something, like, more laid back? Look, Trixie is out with Katya, and Yvie is working. Why don’t we go get those tacos and take them back to the apartment? It’s probably a mess right now but we still got Silky’s Netflix password, we can watch something stupid while we eat, huh?”

It took a few seconds of Brooke biting her bottom lip before she agreed. She called the waiter and asked for the check, which only included the wine they hadn’t touched. In an attempt to chip in, Vanessa offered to cover the tip. Brooke had stated the fifty dollar bill in Vanessa’s hand was enough, and Vanessa placed it on the table with a heavy heart, but didn’t say anything.

The other bill was put into much better use. It got them ten tacos and two _horchatas_ from _Tacos Tu Madre_, where Ben had happily taken them to before dropping them at Vanessa’s.

Just like she had mentioned, the place was complete chaos. Three girls living together meant a lot of clothes, shoes, and makeup thrown carelessly around the entire apartment. Vanessa swore it was an organized mess, meaning she knew exactly where her stuff was scattered, and had no issue finding exactly what she needed at all times.

“You see that blue sweater over that chair?” She asked Brooke as they dropped their take out on the coffee table. “If you lift it, you are gonna find a shirt I got from the 5k color run.”

Brooke looked at the pile of clothes but didn’t move.

“It’s clean, bitch!” Vanessa assured her with a laugh. “Do you really think I would leave dirty laundry in the middle of the living room?”

With a doubtful look around, Brooke shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t know what to expect.”

Still laughing, Vanessa walked to her and lifted the sweater herself, revealing exactly what she had said. There was a white t-shirt that was way too big for her, but Vanessa had proudly taken home when she finished the charity event.

“Aha! Didn’t I tell you?!” Vanessa smiled triumphantly, throwing the garment in Brooke’s direction, who caught it out of reflex more than anything else. “I’m gonna change into my PJ’s. You can put this on, if it makes you feel more comfortable.” She walked to the other end of the room, pushed a door open and turned on the lights. “You can change in the bathroom. Lemme get you some sweats, or somethin’.”

Brooke looked lost for a minute but did as she was told anyway.

An hour later, Vanessa was curled up on the end of the couch. Brooke took most of the space as she relaxed, spread across the small couch. Her legs looked particularly long in the tiny pair of shorts she had borrowed from Vanessa. Originally, the garment covered most of Vanessa’s thighs but it ended just below Brooke’s butt. 

The TV played a baking competition and both Brooke and Vanessa, with not a single clue of how to make cupcakes, agreed that they would’ve done a much better job than the team being booted off the show. Brooke explained to Vanessa how their personalities matched perfectly. She reminded her they had already proven they could work as a team. That was when Vanessa remembered their conversation from earlier that night.

“I do like you, you know?” The words left Vanessa’s mouth without asking her permission, a thing that happened more often than not. 

Brooke blinked a couple of times after the confession, which made Vanessa nervous. It was hard to read what Brooke was thinking, she simply sat there, staring at her for the longest time before she found her voice to respond.

“You have a very peculiar way of showing it.” Sarcasm was evident in the tone of Brooke’s voice, and the side grin sealed the joke.

“Well, shit.” Vanessa laughed. “You are not exactly made of fucking rainbows and hugs and kisses, ya know? It’s hard to know how to act around you.”

Those words seemed to touch a tender spot, because suddenly Brooke looked down. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” She played with the napkin in her hand, twisting it around her finger a couple of times before she looked back up. “It can’t possibly be that hard to get me, is it?”

Vanessa shook her head effusively. “Hey, it’s not your fault. You have this dance empire, and all these people looking up to you. Plus, you are mad talented. Bitches get intimidated by that. If they don’t get you, then it’s their loss, ‘cause anybody who sees you dance should call themselves lucky.”

“How do you know that, you have never really seen me dance? Like, on a stage, with the whole production, and all,” Brooke tried to discredit the compliment.

A wave of Vanessa’s hand dismissed her comment. “Don’t have to, girl. I have an eye for these things, you see?”

Brooke threw her head back, nerves making her laugh exaggeratedly. “You should see the show. The last performance is this weekend, why don’t you come?”

“I probably won’t understand any of that princess dance. You really want me between all those fancy people?”

“What are you talking about? Don’t be silly. I totally want you there.” Extending her leg, Brooke pushed her big toe to Vanessa’s ribs. “I like you too, by the way.”

She didn’t think about it, Vanessa pushed Brooke’s leg to the side, and moved closer to her. “You do?”

“Of course! You are funny, and clever, and such a talented dancer. What’s not to like?”

Vanessa shook her head. “Oh, girl, don’t do me like that if you don’t mean it.”

Brook looked offended. “Why would I–” 

She was unable to finish her sentence, Vanessa’s mouth swallowed the rest of the words as she crashed her lips with Brooke’s.

Vanessa didn’t realize what she was doing until she felt two hands pushing her away by the shoulders.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Brooke asked surprised.

For a moment they both looked at each other in confusion. 

Vanessa moved closer, testing the boundaries. “Do you want me to stop?” She asked in all seriousness.

“I-I don’t think so,” Brooke replied a little doubtful, but didn’t move away. “No.”

Vanessa closed the gap between them, and spoke against Brooke’s lips. “You let me know if you change your mind, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive thanks to [Mac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac) for the beautiful mood board.  
[](https://ibb.co/q9yg3s5)  
Remember this is a slow burn? Yeah. Okay. Please, don’t hate me.  
-Monkey.

Chapter 6

“Miss Brooke Lynn!”

The loud clap made Brooke land back into reality. She fell off the _relevé_, her heels loudly hitting the floor of the stage. She felt her entire body vibrating with the dying notes of the violin, even when she had stopped listening to them several counts ago. Brooke turned to face the head choreographer, confusion filled her features as she literally woke up from her daydream.

“It’s time you come back to us, girlie,” Alyssa said as she motioned to herself, her long arms extending and closing slowly. “The last show is tonight and your mind is everywhere but here, baby.”

Brooke kicked her legs out, one at a time, trying to wake them up as she moved to her mark. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m here.”

The choreographer stood straight, her hands clasped together in front of her. “Good. I’m not your Stage Mom, girl. Don’t give me one more thing to worry about. I already have my hands full with Squiddly and Diddly over there.”

Her thumb pointed to the other end of the stage, where Katya sat on the floor, her legs wrapped around her own head. Kameron laughed as she held Katya’s crossed ankles with a hand and the other pushed down her hamstring.

“Come on, bitch,” Katya encouraged her. “We can go lower than that.”

Detox, who had her legs opened wide in front of her, threw a slipper in their direction. It was enough to let them know they were being observed. Both Kameron and Katya sat up, going back to their warm up and stretching, as if nothing had happened.

Alyssa’s attention returned to Brooke, who already stood in fourth position, her chin up high, waiting for the music to start.

“That’s how I like it,” Alyssa smiled widely. “Take charge of the whole scene, bitch.”

“From the top?” Brooke’s question sounded more like an order. It was hard to keep the voice of command in check but, when they were on stage, Alyssa was the ruler. Nobody forgot that.

Alyssa clicked her tongue against her teeth loudly and lifted a finger in the air. The prerecorded orchestra started sounding through the speakers to her cue, and Brooke’s back straightened in expectation.

Her limbs started moving by themselves. Brooke trusted her trained muscle memory to carry her through the solo. She had done the same part the whole season, she could allow her mind to go blank while her body followed the music. Dancing was her sanctuary, her salvation. Many years of struggle had been survived thanks to her opportunity to dance. If it hadn’t been for that hour a day she could lose herself to the music, she would have probably gone insane. It allowed her to travel through time and space and land on the farthest planet of the galaxy, all by herself, where no trouble could reach her, where no harm could touch her. 

Brooke didn’t have many safe places in her life anymore, but there was no place safer than her mind when she was dancing.

The only problem was that, today, her mind didn’t precisely empty like it always did. Dance was usually able to push every thought out of her head, this time, however, one single thought was unshakable: her.

Vanessa.

Vanessa’s lips.

Vanessa’s lips on her.

Even if Brooke and Vanessa had been texting, a lot, it had been a week since the last time they saw each other. Seven full days since they kissed on Vanessa’s old couch. They hadn’t known it was going to happen, or at least Brooke hadn’t planned it. She definitely didn’t have any idea that she was going to like it so much. Kissing Vanessa had felt like floating on air but, at the same time, it had been the most grounding thing in the world. Brooke had never felt that kind of exhilaration before, which, ironically, invaded her whole being with utter peace and calmness. Vanessa’s soft lips had numbed every single one of her senses, yet every nerve ending had stood at attention. 

The whole make out session had suspended time for the two of them. They forgot the ticking of the clock as they explored each other’s mouths, as tongues ran against teeth, and hands brushed over skin. 

Then Vanessa’s phone had rang. 

Yvie innocently asked what was the type of vegan milk that Trixie liked. She could call Trixie herself but she didn’t want to interrupt anything. So foolish of her.

That night, Brooke left the girls’ apartment wearing her fancy dress again. It didn’t matter how much she had insisted to take the clothes she had borrowed from Vanessa, it was pointless. She could wash it herself, Vanessa had repeated over and over again. Brooke knew she should’ve pushed it a little more. When she sat alone in her rented room, missing Vanessa, she wished she had a little piece of her to provide some comfort.

Since then, Brooke and Vanessa hadn’t seen each other, both engrossed in their own lives. 

It was silly, childish, and so unlike her. Brooke had never felt like this before, like a twelve year-old gushing to her diary about her new crush; and she wanted to do exactly that. At thirty years old, she had a note on her phone to go get a notebook, for the sole purpose of writing about her feelings. She wanted to draw hearts and put their initials inside. She wanted to put stickers around their names and mix them together, so their friends could recognize them as one entity.

“Kameron, that elbow, girl!”

Alyssa’s voice, once again, worked as an alarm clock, letting Brooke know it was time to join the real world and exit her fantasy land. 

Her solo had ended long ago and Brooke noticed it just then. Detox and Kameron flanked her as the three of them performed their piece in perfect sync.

She was panting, Brooke realized, and she could feel the sweat pooling around her brows as she danced. Her feet hurt inside the _pointe_, her toenails were digging deep into her skin. She decided to focus on that, to concentrate her complete attention on the pressure on her toes. The pain would work as an anchor, so she wouldn’t drift off to the memory of Vanessa’s hand running up and down her side. 

_Shit._

It wasn’t working. 

By the time rehearsals were over, Brooke had a splitting headache, literally. Her mind couldn’t maintain a linear logical process, jumping from Vanessa to the sequence Brooke was practicing. It felt like her synapses would short-circuit any second, trying to balance the movement of her body and the racing of her thoughts. 

There was only one way to fix things, she knew that, and took care of it in the shower right after the final run through, with hot water falling on top of her head. Everybody did it, they had recommended Brooke to do so many times before. She simply had never felt the need to go there. 

_Your eyes will look so much brighter on stage_, they had said. 

_It’s a great way to loosen up your muscles_, they had advised. 

_It helps your mind to slow down_, they had reasoned. 

All of those sounded like false arguments until she did it. It wasn’t until she saw white flashes before her eyes, Vanessa’s name falling from her lips, and two fingers of her own hand deep inside of herself, that she finally understood.

Brooke felt better right away. The process of getting ready was so much easier. As always, she was the first one to be done, with the exception that she was relaxed as she waited for her dancemates. She walked around the place, tightening up corsets and tying up hair buns, passing tissues and applying eyeliner. Everybody commented on her mood and she brushed it off by saying she was excited about the closing night. She was. Excitement was the only feeling she was allowing herself to have. If she didn’t think about leaving the following Monday, it made it feel less real.

A few minutes before the heavy red curtain was pulled up, Brooke peeked through the wings to see the attendees filing inside. She wondered if Vanessa was already in her seat. She was probably trying to find popcorn outside, grumpingly realizing actual theaters didn’t work the same way as the movies. A smile crept to her lips as Brooke went back to the dressing room area. All the while, she imagined the little powerhouse making a scene in the lobby, asking who was in charge of the food up in that joint. 

Funny enough, none of that was taking place. Vanessa was already seated, her feet, fueled by anxiety, were tapping the carpeted floor rapidly. Her dress was too tight, the inside wiring was pressing against her ribcage already. She didn’t know how long plays lasted but she imagined several hours; there was no way she was going to be able to sit there in pain for so long. She started wondering why she allowed Trixie to convince her to wear such a stupid thing.

Vanessa looked around, the place was fancy. She couldn’t really remember why the Dolby Theater was so important, but she did know The Oscar’s had been held there. The plates with the winning movies at the entrance confirmed it. The guests looked extremely elegant, it made perfect sense for them to be there, they belonged. Vanessa didn’t feel like she did. It was a thought that usually appeared whenever she entered Brooke’s world, and it wasn’t a nice feeling to host.

The program in her hand had become a thin tube, as she nervously kept rolling it between her fingers. Vanessa straightened the paper against her knee, her palm hitting flat on Plastique’s figure printed on the cover. Intricate golden letters spelled _The Sleeping Beauty_ at the top of the page. She figured she didn’t need to open the program to see what was inside, Vanessa had watched the movie many, many times growing up and she knew how it went. She also knew more than a few of the dancers of the company. If anything, she wanted to picture what role could be played by each of her new friends, placing bets against her imagination if she got the casting wrong. 

That was when the second call sounded through the speakers.

Next to Vanessa, Trixie was calmly going through her phone, piece of gum between her teeth, and the pink binoculars she had found at the Dollar Tree resting on her lap. Vanessa wondered if she was even going to use them. They were right in the middle of the audience, taking the places reserved for friends and family. The stage was relatively close, there was no way Trixie was going to need them.

Just as Vanessa made those observations, shifting to fix her corset yet again, the lights went down slowly. People around them clapped rather dully and both friends followed suit, looking at each other in conspiracy. The little smiles played on their lips as the stage was revealed.

The production was… expensive, Vanessa decided. She had known the ballet company had money, but she didn’t know they actually had _money_. 

A staircase, with a golden handrail, stood in the background. In pairs, dancers walked down the steps, with outfits that seemed straight from, like, three centuries ago. All of them were girls, but half of them wore men’s clothes as they represented couples attending a reunion. They looked pretty funny. Vanessa bit her lip trying not to laugh. She turned to Trixie who had the exact same look of amusement on her face. They chuckled and whispered about the horrible wigs, the baggy pants that looked like diapers, and the ugly mustaches. 

By the time the queen and king showed up, dancing and jumping around with a fake baby in their hands, they absolutely lost it. 

Trixie pressed her hand to Vanessa’s mouth, forcing her to be quiet, yet barely being able to contain her laughter herself. Then the music stopped and the fingers ran down Vanessa’s chin as Trixie dropped her arm in surprise.

Brooke appeared on the stage. The dancers stepped away to the sidelines and pointed in her direction. Her steps were sharp and her face was serious, making her look regal. A bright blue corset enhanced her round breasts and small waist; from her hips, a sparkling tutu stuck out in every direction, leaving her butt in full display under the soft pink tights. She stood still for a moment, her long leg went up in the air, and she landed on the _pointe_ shoe after a little jump.

Everybody in the company loved Brooke, Vanessa had gathered as much. She had heard many comments about how good Brooke was as a director, her creative mind was complimented a lot but, above everything, the girls wouldn’t stop talking about how talented she was as a dancer. When they were preparing The Dream Girls for the dance competition, Vanessa had gotten a glimpse of that. Brooke would randomly start dancing at the back of the room, being silly and having fun. Her body clearly showed that she worked hard, but more than once Vanessa doubted if maybe her friends’ love for her made them exaggerate Brooke’s abilities. 

It was time for Vanessa to witness the magic first hand.

Accompanied by soft music, Brooke seemed to glide across the stage. Her legs reached so high, it was out of this world. Every single one of her moves was gentle, delicate. She turned and turned and turned until Vanessa felt dizzy, but Brooke was completely unbothered. It was hypnotizing. She made it look so effortlessly graceful. Her smile was big and her facial expression was relaxed as she moved around the cradle with the fake baby.

Something warm invaded Vanessa’s chest, and it took her a minute to identify what it was. It was pride. She felt proud of Brooke. It filled her entire body, making her feel good and alive. Tears gathered in the corner of her lash line, and Vanessa blinked rapidly to get rid of them. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Brooke, of her flawless body moving around the stage as if she had been born to grace it.

Brooke stood front and center, her feet performing an intricate sequence as she held her head up high. Her eyes travelled across the audience, and looked straight to Vanessa. She knew that it couldn’t be true, Vanessa had been on enough theaters to know the illumination blinded the dancers, forcing them to see nothing but darkness behind the lights. A part of her wanted to believe that it was possible, she wanted to think that Brooke was holding her stare and dancing just for her; because that was what Vanessa had done. During her performance in the dance competition, she had found Brooke, locked eyes with her, and forced the rest of the people to disappear from her field of view. She wanted to believe Brooke was doing the same thing.

The audience gasped loudly as Brooke jumped high in the air, spun more than once, and landed in a perfect split. Her arms went up to frame her head, her torso fell back, then front, she extended one leg and, just like that, she was back up. 

A pang of disappointment hit Vanessa when suddenly Brooke was not alone on the stage anymore. Detox, wearing a green version of Brooke’s dress, walked to her side with extended arms, then the beautiful quiet girl — that Vanessa couldn’t remember the name of — showed up on the other side, dressed in pink. The girls started moving in immaculate synchrony, as if they were three versions of the same person. The physical resemblance made it hard enough to pick them apart, if it hadn’t been for the different colors they were wearing, it could’ve been an impossible task. What made it even more difficult was the way they hit every mark at the same time, how their minds and bodies seemed to be connected.

“What, are they, like, triplets or somethin’?” Vanessa tilted her head towards Trixie, unable to turn away from the dancers on the stage.

“They are the fucking fairies, you idiot.”

Of course they were. Trying to remember the movie, Vanessa made the connections. The baby was Aurora, who would, in the next act, grow up to be Plastique. The fairies would take care of her. 

The music changed dramatically, everybody around them clapped effusively as the stage lights dimmed down. Vanessa looked around, her heart rate raising to match the tempo of the powerful song. 

From behind the staircase, appeared a figure in black. The audience members collectively held their breaths as the shadow, whose face was covered by a thick veil adorned with feathers, danced around the frightened fairies. This was nothing like the graceful dance that they had been witnessing. It was primal and filled with rage. 

Even before the dancer with the horns was disclosed, Trixie started jumping up and down in her seat.

“That’s Katya!” Trixie stage whispered to Vanessa’s ear. “That’s my girl!” She turned to face the stranger to her other side. “My girl is the devil.”

Katya took off the cover and revealed an outfit pretty similar to the other dancers’, but it was black and had enhancements of purple across her torso. She looked beautiful, wickedly so.

A lady, so politely that it verged on condescendance, tapped Trixie’s arm. “That’s Carabosse, darling, the Wicked Fairy Godmother.”

“No, bitch, my girl is Maleficent.”

The woman pressed a hand to her chest in shock and, with a huff, returned her eyes to the stage. A battle was taking place, specifically between Katya and Brooke, whose dance style matched their roles to perfection. Katya, with her arms arched above her head, and her legs kicking high up in the air, seemed to be casting spells to the people around her. Brooke spun and turned, managing to stay clear of the imaginary rays of magic. 

Katya moved towards the crib, a vicious smile adorning her face, as she made a whole scene of enchanting the baby. It was very clear that Katya was having the time of her life. Her happiness was contagious. She was visibly having fun killing the guests of the party and fighting her friends in a fantastic combat.

After several minutes of pure tension, of Vanessa literally sitting at the edge of her seat, Brooke managed to scare the evil fairy away. With a guttural grunt, loud enough to be heard above the orchestra, Katya left the stage in the same obscure way that she had entered. And the red curtain came down a second later.

The ballet company was good, really, really good, but there was only one person that stole the show. It didn’t matter if Brooke technically had a secondary role, she owned the floor as soon as her _pointes_ made contact with the wooden stage.

Seeing Plastique dance with imaginary animals and falling in love with a girl dressed as a prince was probably the least appealing part of the whole thing.

Vanessa’s favorite part was when Plastique danced happily at a party, then Katya showed up to ruin everything again. With a white sheet covering her dark fairy dress, she pinched Plastique’s finger. Plastique made a dramatic fall to the floor before Katya revealed who she was. Laughing loudly, and extremely proud of herself, Katya exited the scene. The whole act was engraved in Vanessa’s mind only because, seconds later, in a vision of white, Brooke had looked like an angel as she came to save the day.

It seemed to be an ongoing theme for the girl, to show up out of literal nowhere and become the salvation needed. Brooke had pretty much saved Vanessa’s ass, in more ways that she even allowed herself to consider. There were many things that Vanessa had stopped her brain from thinking about, many feelings she had prevented her heart from having, but not anymore.

The play lasted about two hours; surprisingly enough, Vanessa didn’t feel like it had been that long. The whole three acts had been mesmerizing. 

As Brooke took her final bow, with a big smile and holding the hands of her dancemates, things became very clear for Vanessa. She wanted to run, go up that stage, and tell Brooke, in front of all those people, how special she was and how the world was unworthy of her talent. Vanessa wanted to take Brooke in her arms, a river of praises falling from her lips as she worship her body with kisses. She couldn’t do any of that, not there. They all had plans to go out after the show, to celebrate the closing of the season, maybe then.

Meanwhile, Vanessa stood with everybody else, giving the dancers the standing ovation they deserved, but knowing the tears of joy were running for one ballerina, and one ballerina only. The one Vanessa was madly in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took some creative license and tweaked the original play to mix it with the Disney movie. No disrespect to Tchaikovsky and his masterpiece. I just figured it would make more sense to read something we are all a bit more familiar with. That’s also the reason why I jumped to Vanessa’s POV during that part, so we wouldn’t get lost in the technicality of Russian ballet.  
Hope you had liked it :)


	7. Seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will be happening now. The idea was to write nothing too explicit, maybe like the movie channel after ten o’clock but, well, this story decided to go Places. Sorry (kinda).  
-Monkey.

Chapter 7

They were early, and Brooke knew it. People often joked about her, her and the medical condition that made it physically impossible for her to be late. Technically, they weren’t wrong. She just couldn’t risk not being on time. That was the reason why she rushed all her dancemates to get changed as fast as they could after the show to make their way to the club.

Ben drove the limousine through Hollywood Boulevard, the dancers stuck their heads out of the sunroof. They laughed, and screamed, and waved at tourists, like teenagers on their way to prom.

Brooke felt happy, the happiest she had been in a really long time. She wasn’t entirely sure why, or, better yet, she had so many reasons to be happy that picking one would be unfair. Instead of worrying about that, she basked in the feeling of accomplishment. They had finished one more leg of the tour and she couldn’t be prouder of her team. Everybody worked so hard and the results were a marvelous set of shows worth celebrating.

The loud music could be heard coming from the inside of the club when they got there. Brooke stared at the neon letters blinking in the same colors as the last time she was there. The girls had offered the strip club as the venue for the after party; Brooke figured the ballerinas would object, but the response was nothing like she had expected. Once again, she was surprised to realize how intertwined the different dance groups had become. Two completely different worlds had merged and given birth to one big, dysfunctional family.

Silky was on stage, thanking a dancer who picked a police uniform up from the floor, and did her attitude check. Brooke yelled her reply with the rest of the club as she led the girls to their reserved area. She sat on the same couch as the time before, and the rest of the company quickly filled that and the two adjacent booths.

A waiter appeared, tray with drinks already in hand, and informed them the first round was on the house. The ballerinas took one each and raised their shots at the same time, toasting to a job well done. Brooke gave a few words, not really in the mood to deliver a full speech when there was a girl removing her pants on the platform behind her. Nonetheless, she wanted to thank her friends for all their hard work, and encouraged them to take the next city by storm. They drank and danced to the music used to accompany the stripper on stage. The dancer wore nothing but a thong and a couple of the ballerinas approached her, placing dollar bills in the straps holding together the small piece of fabric.

After that performance, Silky took the microphone again. All the lights went out except for the big spotlight above the stage. “Alright, y’all! We are having a celebration tonight!” She shook her shoulders, making her breasts bounce arrhythmically. The crowd clapped and cheered, oblivious of the reason for the celebration, but infected by the happiness of the host. “We have some fancy-ass guests in the audience tonight. These girls, they can set stages on _fire_, girl. They are fabulous dancers, who sell out… theaters, probably arenas, too. I’m guessing. I’m not sure. And, apparently, tonight they were on a budget,” she spoke the last words between chuckles, eliciting the ballerinas to giggle right along with her. “Nobody is judging,” she pointed, and winked in their general direction. “We do have a little surprise for you, you high class hoes. Not only because you did that Disney princess movie typa thing, but for everything that you have done for us, for our girls, for our center. Now, y’all may have saved our asses but don’t forget to tip our girls, okay. Every dollar counts, honey. Hit it!”

Between cheers and whistling was that a girl appeared on stage. Trixie did a cute little number. Dressed as a cowgirl, she moved around the platform to an upbeat country song. Brooke’s eyes immediately went to Katya, who mouthed the words as Trixie peeled pieces of clothing off her body. Brooke had never heard that song before, and Katya never liked country; Brooke had to wonder how come her friend knew all the lyrics. As she fixed her stare on Katya, Brooke noticed she knew the steps too. 

There was a sharp pain in her heart when Katya moved to place a stack of bills in Trixie’s bra. They kissed openly for a moment too long, before Trixie went back to her song. Katya mimicked every move from the side of the stage. Brooke could very easily see Trixie and Katya, really late at night, practicing the number; maybe at the girls’ apartment, maybe in Katya’s rented suite. It was a beautiful mental picture of two girls falling instantly in love. They had become so close just to be separated after a few weeks. Because that was what hurt Brooke, her friends having to part ways for a long period. That was surely it.

Looking down at her phone, Brooke realized it was already past midnight, they were technically leaving the next day. A sigh escaped her lips heavily. 

Yvie was next on the stage. She twisted her body in ways that could not possibly be human, and took her clothes off in a way that was more entertaining than sensual. The crowd loved her, and showered her with money as she went around the pole at the end of the runway. 

Brooke knew what was coming next. Her body tensed as she sat with her back impossibly straight. 

The lighting changed again and, even when she was covered with a cloak, Brooke could recognize those pony legs stomping on the stage. _Miss Vanjie_ stood in the middle of the runway as Rihanna’s voice sounded loudly all around them. The beat dropped and that’s when the covering garment found the floor. Vanessa’s hair looked incredibly long, let down in natural waves that almost reached her butt. She wore some sort of basketball outfit with her own name printed on it, white letters against black fabric. If it had been anyone else, it would have looked silly, on her, it looked insanely sexy.

Vanessa, with her mocha skin covered in glitter, moved around the stage at an incredibly fast pace. She commanded the entire floor doing nothing but walking in her leather boots, her hips swaying more than necessary as she waited for the music to pick up again. Her hair followed like a dark curtain behind her until she flipped it over one shoulder. There was a dramatic change in the tempo as she hit her second mark.

Her dancing was hot and sensual. She dropped to all fours, crawled across the floor, and knelt down right in front of the ballerinas’ booth. Her knees spread apart and closed together several times, the muscles of her thighs contracting underneath the pair of black shorts. The palm of her hand landed flat against her breast, her tongue went up against her lip as she massaged herself through her clothes. She lowered her hands and played with the hem of her shirt, revealing her toned stomach. Brooke suddenly wanted to run her tongue between the muscles of her abs. She settled for the best next thing. She got up and went to Vanessa, just in time to see the top flying across the stage. Her fingers came in contact with hot skin as she placed dollar bills, one at a time, in the waistband of the shorts. 

“Thanks, Mami,” Vanessa whispered against her hair, before placing a soft kiss on her cheek and getting up.

The song ended too quickly, and Vanessa left the stage with her sparkling underwear still on. Brooke was actually happy about it, but that was a thought she wasn’t going to entertain. She knew what Vanessa did for a living, she knew that _Miss Vanjie_ was a major part of who Vanessa was as a person, Brooke couldn’t possibly have any negative feelings towards it.

Luckily, before she could spiral down that particular chain of destructive thoughts, the strippers joined the ballerinas. There was loud screaming, congratulations, and more glasses of shots going around. 

Vanessa, still in her underwear, right away moved to Brooke and stood between her opened legs. “Hey, there, my little fairy.” 

Brooke couldn’t help but smile. She ran her fingers through the ends of Vanessa’s hair as she spoke. “Did you like the show?”

“Bitch, I loved it. My ass sat there in awe for the whole two hours, ADHD and all!” She laughed loudly, sinking down slowly and finding a seat on Brooke’s lap almost without noticing.

Before she could reply, Nina called for Brooke’s attention. “Hey, Brooke! We have decided on a name for you two.”

Nervous chuckles left Brooke’s lips. “What?” she asked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Branjie!” Nina offered, as if the word by itself meant anything. “You know, Brooke and Vanjie. Branjie!”

Brooke was shocked to see how everybody agreed with the name, commenting on how fitting it was and pronouncing it repeatedly, tasting the new term against their tongues.

With a roll of her eyes, Brooke dismissed the subject. “Oh, shut the fuck up everyone. Go away!”

The group laughed at her response, making her even more uncomfortable; but then Vanessa was getting up and pulling her by the hand. “Actually, _Branjie_,” she drawled the word, her voice going up a few octaves. “Is the one that’s gotta bounce. See ya later, hoes.”

They started walking away and nobody stopped them. Brooke allowed herself to be dragged to the back of the place, where she remembered the private area to be. A rush of heat went through her when Vanessa pulled the last curtain of the row opened, pushing her inside the pink cubicle. 

“Sit,” Vanessa ordered, it wasn’t a request. Brooke could do nothing but obey. “You paid for a lap dance that you never got, remember?” A slight nod of Brooke’s head answered the question. “We run some serious business around here, child, and there’s nothing I hate more than an unsatis… unsate… a not so happy customer, okay?”

It wasn’t like she wanted to ruin the mood, Brooke knew exactly where the situation was going, but she had to laugh at the minx before her. It was fascinating how Vanessa was this sexy cultural mixture that would stumble with her languages more often than not.

However, the giggles died on her lips as soon as Vanessa’s hips started swaying. With her legs closed, and bending her knees, she slowly went up and down, her body moving in sexy waves that formed a perfect S. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly and her lips parted slightly. Her hands went up and down her sides, stopping momentarily to unclasp her bra. Her fingers easily unhooked the little silver wiring between her boobs, and then dropped her arms, slightly stretched back, to let the garment fall to the floor. Brooke was sure she hadn’t seen anything sexier in her life. She bit her lower lip and pressed her thighs together. The wave of heat had found the perfect place to settle in her crotch, where she throbbed to the rhythm of her speedy heartbeat. She could feel the wetness pooling between her legs, and felt almost embarrassed. She felt like a teen, getting turned on just by witnessing a sensual dance; nobody had even touched her yet.

Vanessa took care of that right away, almost as if she could read her mind. Each of her legs landed on the cushions as she straddled Brooke’s lap. Her hands found support on Brooke’s shoulders and her hips started rocking back and forth. Vanessa wasn’t really following the music that came from the main area, but Brooke didn’t care. The soft touch of skin on skin made it irrelevant. She could feel the heat emanating Vanessa’s body, trespassing through her own skirt.

Tilting her head to the side, Vanessa made her hair rest on one side of her head. She pressed her cheek against Brooke’s face. Soft grunts and light puffs of hot air hit Brooke’s ear, who simply sat there as Vanessa’s core traveled across her thighs and hit her pelvic area repeatedly. 

She looked down, just to admire the small perky breasts pushing against her torso. She licked her lips, wishing she could be licking something else.

“You know you can touch, right?” Vanessa asked, before her lips wrapped around her earlobe.

Brooke shivered unintentionally. Her body responded automatically to the movements and saltry tone of voice of the fireball on top of her. Without thinking about it, her hands landed on Vanessa’s butt, guiding her to rub against her harder and faster. She parted her legs slightly, and that was enough cue for Vanessa to snake her hand between them. Brooke knew what Vanessa was going to find, she was sure she had soaked her own underwear. In a twisted way, it turned her on even more. She wanted Vanessa to know what she was doing to her.

A deep groan came from the back of Vanessa’s throat when she found her prize. “Oh, Mami, you are so ready.” 

Their lips met for the first time that night as Vanessa entered her. It felt like a million stars had burst inside Brooke’s body, galaxies crashed with one another and filled her with light. There was nothing but emptiness around her, she could hear nothing but the sound of wet lips smacking together. Fireworks were starting to line up, ready to be set on fire any minute now, which forced her to stop. Somewhere between the fog of desire, Brooke had a clear view of things. She didn’t want their first time to be like that. Not in a place with see-through curtains and on a couch where who knew how many people had done the same thing. They deserved more than that.

She took a hold of Vanessa’s wrist, stopping the thrusting of her finger. “Let’s get out of here.”

Vanessa bit Brooke’s lip, then ran her tongue over it to sooth the pain. “Your place or mine?”

“How is that even a question?” Brooke smiled, letting her know there was no harm in her words, and pushed her to stand. “Go get your stuff. I’ll get us a ride.”

Brooke gathered her things, giving explanations to nobody, and soon was joined by Vanessa in her basketball outfit. By the time they exited through the backdoor of the club, Ben was already waiting for them. 

“You better look away, Benny Boy,” Vanessa warned as they climbed into the backseat. “Things are about to get real hot real quick back here.”

The driver chuckled softly. He didn’t respond but did move the rearview mirror a little bit higher, unsuccessfully avoiding the makeout session taking place behind him. It took mere seconds of mouths capturing lips, tongues running against teeth, and hands brushing over skin, before he decided to put the division up without asking.

Downtown LA was far from Century City, where Brooke rented a condo during her stay. Yet, without the day traffic, and time becoming completely irrelevant to the kissing couple, it felt like they got there in a blink of an eye.

Surprisingly, they were able to contain themselves as they went through the lobby. The elevator ride did nothing but build up the sexual tension. When Brooke punched in the code, and the doors slid open, all restraints were forgotten. She placed both hands on Vanessa’s face and kissed her, hard but slow. The nearest wall worked as support as Brooke pressed Vanessa against it. She wanted to take her time, to make each second count. She wanted to let Vanessa know just how much that moment meant to her.

“You are so beautiful,” she whispered into Vanessa’s mouth.

Vanessa was tiny, despite the high heeled boots she never failed to wear. Brooke had to hunch over just to kiss her properly. Taking advantage of her position, Brooke dropped to her knees with ease. She hooked her fingers to the elastics of the shorts, pulling down and letting them pool around Vanessa’s feet.

“I need you to tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” Brooke’s words got lost between Vanessa’s thighs.

“Bitch, don’t tell me you have never – oh!”

Brooke smiled proudly at the reaction. Her lips curled up as she sucked on Vanessa’s most sensitive spot. She dedicated her sole attention to the bundle of nerves, sucking, kissing and running her tongue around it. She kept a steady pace, literally feeling how Vanessa melted above her, before pushing a finger in.

“Yo, girl, you want to kill me, child?” A second finger was inserted to her words, making Vanessa scream in surprise.

It felt so natural to be there, on her knees, pleasuring such a beautiful girl. Brooke could stay like that forever. Vanessa, however, had a different idea. Just when her legs started to give out, she pulled Brooke’s hair, mumbling something about that being unfair and exhaling a request to be taken to the bedroom. 

There was no time to lose. The pair of shorts was left right there in the middle of the hallway, and the black thong was dropped somewhere around the living room. When they reached the bedroom, Brooke gave Vanessa specific instructions to keep the boots on. She obeyed. With a kinky grin adorning her lips, Vanessa moved to undress Brooke. She took her time, and Brooke felt about the explode with each painful second.

They fell on the bed in a naked mess of limbs as their mouths devoured each other.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Brooke confessed, when the lack of air forced them to pull apart. “It’s just so… unbelievable.” Her breathing was heavy, she could feel her chest going up and down erratically. 

Vanessa’s hand traced lazy circles around her navel. “Do you want to stop?”

“Are you kidding me? Fuck no!” Brooke confirmed her words by thrusting her hips up, connecting Vanessa’s hand to her center.

It was a matter of seconds before Brooke was shaking uncontrollably, her inner walls clenching around three very skillful fingers. She returned the favor in the same matter, pushing Vanessa over the edge a few minutes later. The second round of sexual bliss found Brooke screaming _Vanjie_ like a mantra, her hands keeping Vanessa’s head in place between her legs, allowing Vanessa to lick her through the waves of pure pleasure. The next orgasm hit them in an awkward position. Brooke’s flexible leg stretched up to rest next to her own head, meanwhile Vanessa sat on her crotch, and grinded their sexes together until they came at the same time.

Being with Vanessa was making love for the first time. All of those times that Brooke had had sex before crumbled and disolved into nothing in comparison. She wondered why she even bothered in having any other sexual partner in the past, it was clear she was meant to become one with Vanessa since the beginning of time. It had finally happened, they had finally found each other. It was a comforting thought, one that pulled her into the most peaceful sleep she’d experienced in her entire life.


	8. Eight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is gonna be sexy times, mixed with sad times, aka regular lesbian hours. Yep. Okay.

Chapter 8

Vanessa woke up in a bed that wasn’t hers. The cool duvet felt nice around her naturally hot body. The pillow, filled with some exotic bird’s feathers, was soft against her cheek. Her own bedding didn’t feel as comfortable. Those were definitely not hers. She was going to freak out, check her surroundings, find a way home; but not just yet. Her first instinct was to sink deeper into the gazillion thread count and enjoy the luxuries of a blanket that hadn’t become stiff with all the washing and drying, and a pillow that hadn’t deflated after being used for years.

Her limbs stretched in every direction, her lips stretching into a content smile. The smell of coffee reached her nostrils and a sigh escaped her softly. 

It had been a long time since she found herself in a situation like this. She was pretty wild when she was a teen, and had woken up in strangers' houses more often than she would like to admit. The mattresses had never felt that good, though. 

Even if rusty, she still knew the procedure. First thing on the list was finding out where she was and who she had spent the night with, everything else would pan out after that.

She moved her eyes around the room. Everything looked clean and organized. There was nothing _homey_ about it, no family pictures in frames or quirky decorations. It was most likely a hotel. That was when it hit her. 

_Brooke_. 

She had spent the night with Brooke, in the condo she had rented during her stay in Los Angeles. That was why the room looked so generic. Although, Vanessa had to wonder if that was how Brooke kept her own place.

Throwing the covers to the side, Vanessa allowed the slightly colder atmosphere, created by the air conditioner, to envelope her naked body. Small goosebumps appeared on her skin at the change of temperature. Her nipples reacted right away, growing hard immediately. She brought her own hands to rest on her breasts, trying to warm them up with her palms, unsuccessfully. They burned slightly, maybe from the cold, maybe from the harsh treatment they received the night before, or early morning, rather. Looking down, she noticed the red dots all across her chest, little love bites that marked her as Brooke’s. Vanessa had never liked hickeys, they were tacky and degrading. The need to flag someone as taken showed nothing but jealousy, fueled by insecurities. This time, she found them… erotic. 

The burst blood vessels were right below the cleavage line, invisible to the world. Surely, they would heal in the next couple of days, when she had to go back to work. For the time being, they were just hers.

Pieces of clothing were scattered around the room; she went around picking them up, but she soon remembered the other garments that had been discarded on their way to the bedroom. There was a red robe draped on the back of an individual sofa. Vanessa figured Brooke had left it there for her. She put it on, the delicate fabric hugging her with its softness. Then, she saw the towel. She could use a shower.

The bathroom was big, probably as big as her room. It was nice. Once again, she made the decision to enjoy the moment and took her sweet time under the water spray. She tried every floral shampoo bottle on the shelves, and clean her body with bars of exfoliating soaps that hurt more than sooth her skin. Even then, she had a smile on her face. It felt good to treat herself like that, to rid her skin of all dead cells, to lather her hair with scented conditioner. She deserved that. She was worthy of a shower head with just the right amount of pressure, with water that reached just the right temperature.

She was worthy of being treated the way Brooke had intended to right from the start. Vanessa didn’t even know why she had rejected Brooke so much. Since the moment they met, Brooke offered to help her, to provide the financial aid she needed, and Vanessa had refused to even listen. She was too proud to accept the money, no matter how badly the center needed it.

They clearly lived in completely different worlds. Vanessa had lost count of how many times she felt like she didn’t belong. Whenever Brooke invited her to step into a small part of her life, Vanessa had immediately realized she didn’t fit. She didn’t want to fit. She liked her life, she liked being _banjee_. Because being from the hood meant no expectations. Nobody would want her to do or be more than the stripper that she was. She was good at it, she was praised for it, she could _handle_ it.

Then came Brooke, who saw something in her, something she hadn’t even seen in herself. Brooke told her she was talented, that she could do greater things than taking her clothes off, that she was meant to be so much more. Vanessa hadn’t believed her, but because it was scary. Stepping into the unknown was not in her. She was okay with staying inside of her bubble, in her comfort zone, where she knew what she had to do and knew how to do it well. There was no need for more. And Brooke meant more. Brooke had made her feel more things than any other person. Brooke had walked into her life, literally out of nowhere, and turned it upside down in the best possible way. Vanessa could already feel her heart abandoning her chest and finding safety in Brooke’s soft hands. Hands and lips and legs that had made Vanessa touch the early morning orange sky. They hadn’t just had sex, they had made love in the only way that two souls meant to be together knew how to. She gave herself to Brooke fully and completely and, maybe for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid.

If the magical dawn they shared, if all those expensive bottles of soap, were just a taste of what being with Brooke could be, maybe she could give it a try. She felt ready to let go.

By the time she was done playing with the cleansing products, and the existential crisis had been tamed, she stepped out of the cubicle and into the warmth of a white cloud of steam.

She dried herself, placed the robe back on, and shook the water out of hair, leaving it to dry by itself.

Vanessa found Brooke in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, elbow propped on her hip as she supported a cup of coffee. She wore a robe similar to Vanessa’s but in purple, it was mostly opened at the chest, revealing the valley between her breasts. The other hand held her phone close to her face. So close that her eyes squinted, trying to get a better view of the content in the device. First came a small smile and then Vanessa found herself giggling softly. If they had met in another life, years, decades before, Vanessa figured she would have found Brooke reading the newspaper, maybe a forgotten cigarette resting in an ashtray next to her.

“Hey, Mami,” Vanessa snaked her arms around Brooke’s waist, stepping right into her space and forcing her attention to abandon the phone completely.

“Hi, baby.” Brooke smiled sweetly, before reaching down to place a soft kiss on Vanessa’s lips. “Oh, I’m sorry about these,” she said as a finger traced the misshaped marks of her own lips on Vanessa’s chest. 

“Nah, don’t worry about them. I kinda like them, actually.” She smiled up at Brooke, who didn’t miss the chance to kiss her again.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Okay?” Vanessa asked in mocked surprise. “The last time I slept that good was at the womb, bitch.”

Brooke laughed openly, showing off her perfectly white teeth. “We don’t have to do anything today but sleep, if that’s all you wanna do.”

“I have better ideas in mind. Thank you very much, Miss Thing.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Vanessa stretched her neck to fully capture Brooke’s lips with her own. She tasted the coffee and faint touches of that cigarette she had imagined. Brooke’s tongue wasn’t as smooth as the night before. The tiny buds scraped the inside of Vanessa’s mouth, after being struck by the hot beverage. It didn’t bother her. Vanessa was enjoying the mixture of the soft pink lips, and the roughness of Brooke’s tongue. A moan escaped Vanessa as she lost herself in the textures attacking her mouth at once. 

Heads moved side to side as the kiss found a rhythm of its own. Their mouths knew exactly how to work together in perfect synchrony. Hands ran over the soft fabric of the robes, trying to make contact with any available bit of skin.

Suddenly, the sound of a cellphone, coming from the living room, stopped their hot makeout session.

“Leave it,” Brooke ordered in a soft whisper, recognizing the ringing device to be Vanessa’s.

Vanessa pressed her body hard against Brooke’s, trapping her between her tiny frame and the cabinets behind her. Taking advantage of the loose robe, Vanessa’s hand seemed to have a mind of its own and moved to cup Brooke’s breast. She pinched the nipple hard, forcing Brooke to stop the kissing to release a loud grunt. That gave Vanessa the green light to continue. She undid the poorly tied knot and pushed the robe down Brooke’s body.

Brooke was all porcelain skin and tight muscles. Vanessa let her fingers ghost across the protuberant ribcage, down the small waist and rested her open palms on the fleshy hips. She looked straight into Brooke’s eyes, the green crystal-like pupils pulled her like the weakest metal.

“You are gorgeous,” Vanessa whispered. “So stupidly gorgeous.” She connected her lips to Brooke’s neck as she complimented her beauty over and over, just like she had wanted to do since the day before. Her lips traveled down, dropping butterfly kisses on the way, until her knees hit the floor. “I think I’m gonna have a little taste of Brooklyn this fine morning.” She laughed against Brooke’s skin, her joke sounding hilarious to her own ears.

Brooke visibly went through several layers of sensual fog, until she was able to gather the strength to open her eyes and found Vanessa’s stare. “It’s Brooke Lynn,” she stated.

The look of surprise was surely written all over Vanessa’s face, because she had no idea where that comment had come from. “What you bitching about up there?”

“It’s Brooke Lynn,” the same words were repeated, as if the more Brooke said them, the more sense they were going to make. “You keep calling me Brooklyn, like the city, ever since the day we met. That’s not my name. I’ve been meaning to say something, but the time never seemed appropriate.”

“And you think _this_ is?!”

Vanessa didn’t give her a chance to reply, her hands took hold of Brooke’s butt and pushed her towards her face. She immediately found Brooke’s most sensitive spot and ran her tongue against it. Just as expected, Brooke dropped the subject, nothing but groans of pleasure left her lips after that. Vanessa made sure to really take care of her, to treat her like the queen that she was. Her ears paid extra attention to every reaction, tuning into Brooke’s desires and pleasing her exactly the way she wanted to be pleased. 

Soon, Brooke’s leg was up on the counter, giving room for Vanessa to move freely. Brooke was intoxicating, and Vanessa had already become an addict. The taste, the smell, the feeling, there was nothing about making love to Brooke with her mouth that Vanessa didn’t like. She kissed and licked and sucked, even after her lips went numb. Her mouth proved to be unable to separate from Brooke, not when she was responding so openly to her. 

Brooke being so vocal about what she felt, about how much she liked it, about wanting more, only increased Vanessa’s want for her. She came first, without even being touched. Brooke’s hand pulling at her hair, the loud moaning, and the hips thrusting against her face, were enough to push her over the edge. She allowed Brooke to fuck her face for as long as she needed, until she found her climax. Vanessa pressed her tongue against Brooke as she came, and licked her clean of her orgasm, feeling her shake in the aftershock of pleasure.

Her joints cracked when Brook brought her leg back down, her sore muscles complaining at the uncomfortable position.

“That wa… Oh, God… I just, I don’t think I have ever cum so hard.” Brooke took hold of the marvel countertop, trying to find something to ground her from the spinning of the room. “I’m literally shaking.”

Vanessa stood up, chuckling, feeling proud of herself. She used the short sleeve of the robe to clean her face. She felt wetness all around her mouth, dripping down from her chin. “It was my ple–”

Before she could finish her sentence, the ringing of the phone found her ears again. 

“Come,” Brooke took Vanessa’s hand, pulling her out of the kitchen. “Let me pay you back.” The look on her face left no room for interpretation, her intentions were as clear as the day outside.

The insisting device made Vanessa stop in her tracks. “Just lemme virtually flip off whoever the fuck is interrupting the sex fest.”

Brooke bit her bottom lip in anticipation. She made an act of dropping the robe again, letting it pool at her ankles, and theatrically lifting her feet to step away from it. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Vanessa watched the perfectly round ass swaying side to side as Brooke sensually walked into the bedroom. Vanessa felt a grunt coming out from the bottom of her lungs as she practically ran to the living room.

When she fished the phone out of her purse, it was no longer ringing. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name next to the seventeen missed calls. She quickly swiped on the notification to return the call. Nothing could have prepared her for the devastated voice that picked up on the first ring.

“Vanessa, where were you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Elena, baby, I’m here. I’m here. _¿Qué pasó?_”

There was silence on the other end of the line, she called Elena’s name but got no response. Vanessa looked at the screen, the timer of the call was still going, letting her know they hadn’t been disconnected. Then came a heartbreaking sob. Elena cried on her side of the line, no words would come from her, only heavy breathing as tears punched the air out of her. Vanessa didn’t know what to do, she kept requesting an explanation, whispered promises that everything was going to be okay, even when she didn’t know what was going on. She begged Elena to talk to her, as silent tears ran down her own cheeks.

“Elena, you are scaring me,” she finally confessed. She knew that, no matter what was happening on the other side of the call, Vanessa needed to be strong for the girl. She needed to become the pillar Elena could lean on and find unwavering support. “Talk to me, _niña_.”

A shaky breath answered her request before actual words were spoken. “It-it’s… my mom,” Elena exhaled with a struggle. “She– Vanessa, she wasn’t moving,” the tone of her voice when up an octave and, suddenly, she was spitting what happened in a freaked out rush. “I didn’t know what to do. She wouldn’t wake up. I called an ambulance, but grandma said we don’t have insurance so she cancelled it. Miguel drove us to the hospital. She’s been in there for hours, nobody tells me what’s going on or how she’s doing and my grandma is pissed for all the money this is gonna cost.”

Vanessa was already running around the living room, finding her underwear and tucking it under her arm. “Okay, don’t worry, baby, I’m on my way. Send me your location and I’ll be right there.” She entered the bedroom, not even glancing at the naked Brooke who waited for her spread on the bed, and went inside the bathroom. “Have you eaten anything?” She didn’t have to see it, she knew Elena was shaking her head. “Go to the cafeteria and get something, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay,” Elena whispered.

“Hey,” Vanessa called her attention, stopping in her own franatict state. “I’ve got you, okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

There was a sniff, and surely one more head shake, before Elena responded. “I… I don’t wanna go with her. Please, don’t let her take me away. I don’t wanna–”

“You won’t!” Vanessa stated firmly, interrupting Elena’s cries. “I said I’ve got you. Now, go eat. I’m on my way. Love you, kid.”

“Love you, too.”

The line went silent and the screen on the phone went black. Vanessa stood still, in the middle of the vast bathroom, trying to remember how to make air reach her lungs properly. She ran a hand through her hair, the tangled curls stopping her fingers from doing so. It was frustrating. She tugged at the roots, feeling the stinging of her scalp, her lips projecting an exasperated groan. Things simply couldn’t just be okay around her, everything had to get complicated, and twisted, and fucked up. Just when she had been able to find a peaceful moment in space and time, the universe had to find a way to laugh at her face and screw up her wonderful day with Brooke. 

Brooke.

Vanessa turned around, her body shaking with uncertainty, but sure that she had to talk to Brooke. She was already there, wrapped in a thin sheet, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Is everything okay?” Brooke knew it wasn’t, she had gathered as much, but there probably wasn’t any other way to start the conversation.

Vanessa shook her head, allowing her body to fall heavily on the closed lid of the toilet. “Elena… her mom… she’s a drug addict, she parties too much. Elena found her unconscious and a neighbor took them to the hospital. A hospital that they can’t pay for. She’s there, confused, dealing with all of this, with her grandma that is a total asshole and abuses her every time she can.”

Tears ran down her cheeks again, her voice laced with pain, with helplessness.

Brooke walked to her, the sheet forgotten by the door. She embraced Vanessa in the warmth of her naked body, but there was nothing sexual in her actions. She allowed Vanessa to cry inside her arms, hot droplets wetting the skin of her breasts. It lasted only a few minutes, but it felt like hours, endless hours of Vanessa pouring her heart out in the shape of tears. Brooke held Vanessa as she crumbled down and turned into a big wet puddle of nothing; rubbed her back as she slowly took the broken pieces one by one and glued them back together.

“She can use my credit card,” Brooke offered once she felt Vanessa’s breathing stabilizing. “Put everything on it.”

She removed her head from Brooke’s chest, looking at her with big brown eyes. “The hospital prices are gonna be insane, child.”

“I don’t care,” Brooke assured her, her fingers working the knots of Vanessa’s hair. “I’ll call Ben, he can take you to the hospital, and bring you back. I’ll let the landlady know, both of you can stay here for as long as you need.”

Vanessa stood up, her hands extended in front of herself. “Hold it. Ben can take _me_? This means you ain’t coming?”

“I can’t. I have a lot of things to do, and I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Her bare feet stomped against the tiled floor in frustration, Vanessa suddenly growing angry. “You said we had all day just this morning, bitch. Oh-oh, I get it. You only have time when it’s sex time. You selfish like that. Alright, alright. I see it.”

Brooke let out a sarcastic huff. She walked back into the bedroom, Vanessa could do nothing but stare at the defined muscles of her back. “I’m willing to pay for all the medical bills of the alcoholic, drug-addict mother of a girl I don’t even know. Tell me how’s that selfish.”

“You do know her!” Vanessa yelled from behind her. “Her name’s Elena, you’ve had talked to her, you’ve had lunch with her, you even fucking danced with her. So don’t come to me and say you don’t know her!”

With the phone in one hand, and her credit card in the other, Brooke stopped cold in her tracks. She stood there with her mouth opened in shock. “Hey, you are not angry at me, remember? I’m just here trying to help.”

“You are trying to throw money at us, like you have been doing right from the start. We are not one more of your million charity cases, hoe.”

“This is unbelievable.” Brooke rolled her eyes, dismissing Vanessa’s words.

Fully clothed by this point, Vanessa stood right in front of Brooke, looking up at her with anger in her eyes. “Once you get your head out of your ass, you are gon’ believe it.” She shook her head before storming out of the room.

Brooke chased after Vanessa, her long legs allowing her to walk at a slower pace. “Hey, come back here. This is not over.”

Without stopping, Vanessa lifted her hand above her head and showed her middle finger. “Goodbye, Miss Brooklyn,” she said as she walked through the front door.

“It’s Brooke Lynn!” Brooke pointlessly yelled at the closed door of her rented condo.


	9. Nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we only have this and another chapter left before the story is over. This was supposed to be some sort of joke. My friend of like ten years, better known as svpermodel, kept going on and on about this “Branjie movie” she wanted to see, I pieced her tweets together and offered to make it a fanfic instead. I knew very little about the pairing and secretly plotted to slowly turned it into a Trixya fic (which I kinda did lol), but never thought I would fall in love with these characters so hard.  
Needless to say, I had a total of four hundred and twenty seven breakdowns trying to figure out how to wrap things up, even when we had the outline done right from the start. It was so difficult for me to reach the end because… I didn’t want it to end.  
But enough of my rambling, thank you so, so much for reading and for taking the time to comment. It means the world to me.  
-Monkey

Chapter 9

It hardly ever rained in LA, except when something shitty needed to happen, then the sky seemed to be falling down in pieces. It was like a movie. When the climax was approaching, when the guy was dumped, when the girl lost her job, rain was always used to set a depressing mood. The drops carried instrumental music with them, intensifying notes that would lead the viewer to a tragic ending. 

Vanessa liked the rain, she liked it a lot. She had come to enjoy it, to long for it. 

Although, when it did rain, people didn’t know what to do. The city itself didn’t know how to react. The permanent state of sunshine made Angelinos forget that, every once in a while, the water cycle would make the clouds release countless gallons of rain. Yet, nobody was prepared for that one day of the year when the streets flooded and the canals overflowed, street posts fell down and the power went out. Nobody knew what to do with themselves when the TV signal became erratic, and billboards were ripped from their frames. There were car accidents, because one forgot how to drive when water fell from the sky, and currents dragged all the garbage left on the sidewalks.

_Thankfully, it hardly ever rained in LA._

Goosebumps appeared on her arms as Vanessa exited the church. Every piece of uncovered skin complained at the sudden change of temperature. The cold wind, charged with tiny ice molecules, played with the skirt of her black dress. It was probably too short for the occasion, but nobody would have expected her to wear anything else. The heat of her body, as it encountered the cool air, made her cheeks blush; the cold wind bit the delicate skin of her face. She pressed the girl closer to her side as they walked down the stairs. Vanessa did have half a mind to put something with a little more coverage on Elena that morning.

The sound of her high heels, mixing with the droplets hitting the ground, made everything feel even more dramatic for Vanessa. The only thing missing was a thunder slapping across the sky right that instant, to complete the horrific cinematic scene. Thing that didn’t happen.

People rushed by them, waving with one hand as the other held umbrellas, or any piece of available paper, over their heads. Promises were shouted at them, to meet in a few minutes. Neither Vanessa or Elena felt like rushing their steps. Their faces were more or less covered by the big hats and the thin veils, which shielded them from the rain – and the social responsibility to be polite. They strolled across the long parking lot, allowing their bodies to get wet and clothes to stick to their skin. After all, it hardly ever rained around there.

There was a bench at the back of the church. Its color had faded; the hard California sun had slowly but surely eaten the deep brown that covered the contraption, leaving rusty tubes of metal in full display. Even though old and colorless, the bench still served its purpose. They sat on it, water that had gathered on the seat trespassed the fabric of their dresses and reached their legs. Vanessa gladly took the reminder that she could still feel something, even if it was just the rain. 

She took a moment to evaluate her life, because it was the only logical thing to do as she sat in the rain at the back of a church. 

Vanessa had always thought her life was the hardest. There were some problems placed in front of her that surely nobody else could take. She was a champ for making it through so much heartache and hardship. On some days she felt invincible, she yelled at life, or God, or destiny, to bring on the next challenge. She could take it. On other days, she felt like she deserved a break. Knowing that she could overcome whatever obstacle was placed in front of her, didn’t mean that she wanted to keep on doing so. 

Life had been testing her for a bit too long, it was time for her to have some rest. She thought she had found that pocket of time and space where the universe had secluded her from all harm. That was when Brooke had been thrown into the mix. Of course, Vanessa couldn’t possibly break down the most important moments of her life without thinking about Brooke. It didn’t matter if their paths had crossed only a few weeks ago, Vanessa was sure that they had been meant to find each other since the beginning of times. The girl walked into Vanessa’s life and flipped it upside down. She had never lost the ground like that. Regardless of the many emotional hurricanes she had faced, Vanessa had never felt so lost, and confused, and _twisted_ in her entire life. It had been beautiful; nerve wracking, but beautiful. Just when she was ready to open up her heart, to let someone else in and help her carry the weight, everything came crashing down. Bad things just kept coming, one after the other.

With each battle, Vanessa knew she had the option to either let the pain make her bitter or stronger. The line separating those two was sometimes hard to see, with a tendency to change positions with every situation. The line was wiggly, drawn with chalk that threatened to disappear with the rain currents; it was volatile. She prided herself in always choosing to be grateful. At least her life wasn’t as hard as the girl’s who clung to her arm right that instant. The same girl that had to look away as the casket of her mom was placed inside the hearse.

Ben parked right behind it, and Vanessa pulled Elena by the arm to get up. The driver rushed to them with an umbrella, ready to shelter them from the merciless drops, but Vanessa shook her hand in front of herself. It was pointless, they were soaked already. Silently, Ben nodded his head, walked the short distance he had moved from the car and opened the door to help Elena in. Vanessa, jumped in the passenger seat, as it had become her tradition. Ben didn’t stop her, he never did. He settled behind the wheel and turned the car back on. 

They followed the procession in silence. 

Elena looked out the window with a heavy heart, her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. Vanessa bit the loose skin of her cuticles; she tried to count the times the windshield wipers passed in front of her eyes. Anything that could distract her from the intense pain hovering above them. 

“Thank you,” she whispered after a few minutes. “You really didn’t have to do this. You know I can’t pay you, right?”

With a soft smile, Ben’s stare found hers for the first time. The cars in front of them moved extremely slow. “You don’t have to, dear. I’m happy to do this, to help a friend.”

A huff escaped Vanessa involuntarily. “Don’t even mention that hoe.”

It was easier to stay angry, to be mad at the person who supposedly didn’t help; because anger was a lot easier to deal with than sadness. Vanessa couldn’t admit, not even to herself, that she had left a part of her in that condo, that every step she took away from that metal door felt heavier than the last. If she told herself how much she didn’t want to see a certain person, it prevented her from missing them.

Ben chuckled softly. “I mean you, you silly head. I’m doing this for you, and for her.” He craned his neck to look through the rearview mirror, spotting the girl drawing hearts on the tarnished window. “How is she doing?”

“Not well. It’s not like her mother was very present, but at least she had her mom, you know?”

Even when he didn’t know, even when he had never gone through an experience like that, Ben nodded. “I can’t imagine what she must be feeling; but, hey, at least she’s got you, huh?”

“Damn right!” With a heavy sigh she tried, unsuccessfully, to spot the girl through the side mirror. “She will always have me.”

Vanessa was set to keep her promise, she didn’t leave Elena’s side that day. They held each other as the casket descended, and together threw the first handful of dirt. They didn’t let go as they greeted people into Elena’s home. In a very Hispanic tradition, the whole neighborhood got together to say their final goodbye to a woman they didn’t like, showed up at the place of someone they constantly talked about behind her back. With a forced smile on her face, Elena accepted hugs, directed pots and pans wrapped with aluminum foil to the kitchen and jackets to her bedroom.

Soon, the small apartment was crowded with chatty ladies and running kids. Vanessa talked to some of the older women, discussing recipes she had never tried to cook, not even pretending she knew what they were talking about. She kept an eye on Elena, talking to her dance friends, putting a front, appearing much stronger than what she was truly feeling. Soon, Vanessa had enough and asked the ladies to excuse her so she could check on the girl.

“How you feeling, baby?”

Elena pressed her lips into a thin line, and shrugged her shoulders, not really wanting to give an answer. Silence enveloped them for a minute, until the other girls understood they needed privacy. Between whispers and made up excuses, they got up and left them alone.

Vanessa took one of the now empty seats next to the girl. “Aight. I get it. I’m done talking with those clucking hens over there, too.” She pushed her chin in the direction of the women she had been talking to. Her comment didn’t get the laughter she was expecting in response. Honestly, she didn’t even know what she was expecting, she had no idea how to act in that situation. But she did know Elena, and she knew that she needed to figure out things on her own. Vanessa wanted to be there, but, at the same time, give her enough space to breath. It was complicated, to say the least. “Fine. We don’t have to talk.” Her stare travelled around, her fingers tapped her own knee, unsure of what to do with herself. They both sat in silence, watching people eat, and talk, and laugh, because that was the norm in Hispanic households. 

Suddenly, there was a tap on Vanessa’s shoulder. “Vanjie, can I talk to you?” Michelle’s steady voice saved her from the awkward moment.

“Bitch, yes!” Vanessa replied a little too quick, thankful for the distraction. Catching herself, she sat straight, placing a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “Will you be okay for a minute?” The girl simply nodded her head, still in her absentminded state. Vanessa leaned towards her and kissed her temple, before getting up and following Michelle to a different room.

Michelle pushed the many coats out of the way and sat on Elena’s bed. The floral print, in soft pinks and purples, was a big contrast against the all-black outfit that Michelle was wearing. An aura of solemnity surrounded her as she looked across the small space but, truthfully, Vanessa couldn’t think of a time when Michelle looked anything but regal. Vanessa admired her, in every sense of her being. Michelle always knew what to say, what to do; her mind always worked out the perfect plan for whatever situation she encountered. The way she carried herself through life, with such confidence and certainty, was something Vanessa always wished she could do herself.

This time around, Michelle looked, if possible, even more majestic than ever. She straightened her back, her large breasts in clear view thanks to the deep cleavage. “I have good and bad news,” she spoke in the same ceremonious way that she had been acting all day. “Which one do you want first?”

The question startled Vanessa, she didn’t expect having to make any decisions during the conversation. “The bad, always the bad. Then we cover the wound with the good.” She nodded her head approvingly, agreeing with her own words.

For a split second, Michelle casted her eyes down. She tangled her fingers in her lap and sighed. The facade fell for a single beat of silence before she lifted her head and looked straight into Vanessa’s eyes. “We lost the center.” The words came out in a single exhale, in a monotonous whisper that barely registered in Vanessa’s head.

She heard it. Every single syllable of that message entered Vanessa’s ears. It was her brain the one that couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind the words. She could feel them bouncing inside her skull, crashing with every wall and resounding with each hit. The sentence had been simple, one would think four words, strung in such a logical order, would be easy to understand, even for her bilingual brain. Yet, each hop and jump the letters performed through the wiring of her head, made it impossible for Vanessa to let them land in a spot of comprehension. 

“Vanjie,” Michelle snapped her fingers in front of her, landing her back into reality, forcing the cogs inside her mind to kick back into gear.

“Wha-what you mean we lost the center? That can’t be true. It ain’t happening. We got the money, we did. Exactly what they asked for. They just needed to finish off the paperwork. That skinny bitch told me the lawyers would take care of everything, she told me that…” Words spilled out without her permission, she didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. She went on and on _and on_, until she lost track of her own thoughts and simply let her mouth run, hoping Michelle would stop her. She didn’t. Michelle didn’t scream at her to shut up, to get a grip and get it together. Michelle allow her to let it all out. Vanessa only stopped once tears ran down so rapidly that words could no longer catch up. “What-what are gonna do? What can we do to save it?”

“Nothing.” It was clear, there was nothing complicated about Michelle’s statement. They had lost, and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

“What happened? Did they at least give you a reason?” Vanessa asked once she recovered a grip of the situation.

Michelle shrugged slightly. “Someone offered them more money.”

“Nah, child, they can’t do that. Can they do that? She said it was ours, the lawyers just needed to finish the paperwork.” She was repeating herself, Vanessa knew it, but maybe if she said it a lot, it would become a reality.

There was no response from Michelle. She sat there, watching Vanessa pace back and forth inside the small room, giving her the time to absorb all the information she had received.

“Can we, like, sue them?” A head shake answered her question. “Is there a way we can get more money? We still have, like, two more weeks, right? We can have another ball.”

Michelle lifted her hand, figuratively stopping Vanessa from continuing. “There’s nothing we can do. Trust me, I have tried every possibility, exhausted every chance from every angle. It’s gone. Actually, that’s where the good news comes from.”

Vanessa’s mouth fell open in surprise. “What you mean good news?! What kind of fucked up news could come out of this mess?”

“Vanjie, I need you to really listen to me. Before you say anything, I need you to pay attention to what I have to say.” There was a moment of silence. The two women simply looked at each other, connecting in a paralinguistic level that was so unequivocally theirs. “I spoke to the girls,” Michelle continued. “We want you to keep the money–”

“Bitch, you wildin’! What makes you–”

“I asked you to listen to me, Vanessa.” The name was what got her. Michelle rarely called her that, unless things turned serious. Vanessa sat down next to Michelle, opening her mind, heart, and ears, for what Michelle had to say. “Elena is going to need someone to look after her, help her with her homework, love her like she deserves. Fight for that girl, take her out of the abusive environment she’s fallen into and give her a home.”

Vanessa shook her head. She had thought about that. Now that Elena’s mom was gone, the most obvious option was the grandmother. It didn’t matter how big of an asshole she was, that cranky old lady was still Elena’s only family. Any judge with half a mind would allow the girl to go with her. Nobody really knew how she was constantly putting Elena down, minimizing her abilities, reducing her to nothing more than the daughter of a drug addict, destined to follow the same footsteps. Nothing the girl did was enough to her eyes. As far as Vanessa knew, the _abuela_ never attacked Elena physically, she wouldn’t have the strength to; but her acid tongue knew how to cut right where it hurt, causing a lot more damage that any tangible wound. Vanessa had thought about getting a lawyer and trying to get custody of the girl. Her chances were slim to none. Not to mention she didn’t have a dime under her name, she wouldn’t be able to support the two of them. Hell, she wouldn’t have been able to afford the lawyer to start with.

“Do you really think the court would let her live with a stripper?” There was a huff coming from Vanessa’s lips, highlighting the absurdity of it all. “Who, on top of that, lives in a shoe box apartment with two other hoes?”

“No.” Michelle was not playing around, she was not entertaining Vanessa’s sarcasm. “That’s why you need to do some changes first. Use the money to get a good lawyer,” Michelle suggested, practically reading Vanessa’s mind. “Get out of that small place and find something better. I talked to some people at this complex, they have amazing student discounts.”

“But I’m not a student,” Vanessa reminded her.

“You are going to. There’s no way you will get a job unless you get your act together. That starts with finishing high school. I can help you look for night schools, or maybe online courses.”

All of that sounded like too much work, Vanessa’s mind was already rejecting the idea as a whole. She didn’t want to _get her act together_, she was doing perfectly fine as she was. Instead of spitting back all the reasons why she didn’t want to follow Michelle’s plan, she allowed herself to really think about it. Among all those excuses, there was one thing, bigger than any pointless pretext, that would make it all worth it. Just then, the only motivation that she needed to be better, walked into the room.

“Can I hide with you guys for a minute?” 

Michelle smiled widely, patting the space between her and Vanessa. “Of course, kiddo. Come chat with us.”

Elena obeyed. She sat down on the bed and rested her head on Vanessa’s shoulder. Vanessa knew there was absolutely nothing she needed to think about. The decision had made itself right then and there. If it meant having that beautiful angel permanently by her side, she was going to change, she was going to be better. She was going to do it for Elena.

And she did.

The following two weeks came and went in the blink of an eye. Vanessa contacted a lawyer that Michelle recommended and, just like she had suggested, Vanessa found a much bigger apartment in a nicer area. The next step was finding a job that the family judge would find decent. She started waiting tables at a Mexican restaurant that paid shit, but had good tips. Her personality helped her a great deal in that area. She knew when to smile, when to flirt, and when to make the customer believe the side of tortillas was on her. Stripping was left behind, and she was surprisingly okay with that. It gave her a certain sense of peace to think that the last time she did it had been for Brooke.

During the whole process of rearranging her life, Brooke had always been a latent thought. Not exactly there, but never leaving her mind completely. Brooke had been right, Vanessa was meant to do so much better, to achieve greater things. Vanessa didn’t know why she had been so closed to the idea, why she had felt attacked instead of empowered. Her stubbornness, mixed with her unwavering pride, was a dangerous combination that forced her to push such an amazing person away. 

She had tried, Vanessa had messaged Brooke. One simple text was sent with a waving hand emoji. In her mind, Vanessa planned a whole conversation as soon as Brooke texted back. She never did; and double texting was never part of Vanessa’s brand. That was when she put Brooke on the back burner and concentrated on Elena, and Elena alone, becoming almost oblivious to the passing of time.

Before she knew it, she was standing behind a yellow ribbon, waiting next to the most important people in her life, for their dreams to be shattered. The hot California sun shone above their heads, Vanessa placed a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness as she tried to look up. The large wrecking ball hung from the tall crane. It looked… powerful, she decided after a moment. It looked heavy, and extremely capable of destruction as it swung dangerously close to her beloved building. Workers walked around the area, shouting instructions to each other, and writing things down on clipboards. Vanessa watched them, with their big boots and yellow helmets, as they pronounce the time of death of the community center.

Trixie, stood next to her, chewing a piece of gum rather loudly. “Why don’t you say something? A few, like, encouraging words?”

Vanessa looked down at her feet. “There’s really nothing I can say.” Even when her statement had been negative, her eyes travelled among the people she loved the most. “There really are not enough words, in English or Spanish, to explain how devastating this is. It is something that you just… feel. We are all feeling the same thing, I think, and it fucking hurts.” Her voice broke a little; hot tears gathering at the corner of her eye. “I just… I really don’t know what to say.”

“Can I give it a try?”

All eyes were directed to the shadow walking their way. Vanessa turned around and that was when she saw her. The long blonde waves had been chopped, now straight hair framed her face, curling slightly around her chin. She looked different, but it was her. She wore a white button down shirt, a black pencil skirt, and the usual high heels. Same that resounded against the payment, just like they did all those weeks ago, when Vanessa met her for the first time.

Brooke waved at them from the other side of the yellow line. A small smile played on her lips, but she bit her lower lip to prevent it. She was happy to see them all again, she was happy thinking about all the good things that were about to come, but the emotion in the moment represented a complete contrast to her happiness.

“What is your ass doing here?” Vanessa asked defensively.

Brooke had expected nothing else. She sighed deeply before she looked straight into Vanessa’s eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you in the last couple of weeks. I couldn't trust myself to keep my mouth shut. There was so much work that needed to be done before I could talk to you. There’s something that I need to tell you.” She lifted her head to address everybody that gathered in the park that afternoon. “Two months ago I was stuck in traffic and saw a group of girls dancing. It was like nothing I had seen before. They looked so happy, so genuinely happy just moving to the rhythm, with steps dictated by their hearts. I saw myself in them, the old me, the one that danced freely without a care. I just needed to talk to them. I wanted them to restore my love for dance. So I ran down from the car and approached them... then I met you,” she spoke directly to Vanessa. “You asked me if I was here to kidnap your kids and sell them in the black market.” There was a round of tearful laughter to her words. Brooke chuckled herself and took a risk, she extended her arms and held Vanessa’s hands in hers. “You love this place. You love it so much that you made me fall in love with it in an instant. I know how hard you have fought for it, how hard you worked to keep it from being demolished.”

“Yeah, well, here we are.” Vanessa tried to look away, to fixate her eyes on anything that wasn’t Brooke’s perfectly applied makeup.

“Yes,” Brooke agreed. “Here we are. About to start a new era. This building is going to be brought down just so it can be reborn as something bigger and better.”

Confused faces stared back at her, unable to follow her train of thought. Brooke chuckled once again and, still holding Vanessa’s hands, she directed her words to the crowd in front of her.

“This is your community center, the one you filled with love, and laughter, and music. You will still have the chance to do all of that, only that I have now decided to call it: The Dream Girls Youth Center.”

“You-you bought it?” Vanessa asked shocked.

Brooke simply nodded. “Yes, I did, but it’s not mine. It’s yours, it’s for the community. The only thing is that I have no idea how this works, I’m going to need someone to help me run it.”

In a quick move, Vanessa made her let go of her hands. “Bitch, the fuck you are talking about?”

Exasperated, Yvie slapped Vanessa’s arm. “She’s talking about you, you dumbass. She bought the center, is going to rebuild it, and wants you to run it. Am I right?”

Piece by piece the information was suddenly making sense in Vanessa’s head. The more she understood, the more she freaked out. “Is that true?”

A nod from Brooke answered her question.

“We get to keep the center?”

One more nod.

“And you want me to run it?”

Brooke finally allowed the smile to take over her whole face. “I could never do this without you, Vanessa. I’m going to need you by my side as we bring it back to life.”

Vanessa was physically taken aback by those words, she literally took a step away from Brooke as she digested the new information. They looked into each other’s eyes, feeling how their souls reconnected, making up for all the lost time. In that moment everybody but them disappeared, there was nothing around them but light. Emptiness surrounded them as their hearts synchronized yet again to beat at the same rhythm.

“By your side? Does this mean you are staying?”

Once again, a nod functioned as response. “If you want me to, that is.” Brooke moved as close to her as the yellow ribbon allowed her. She extended her arms, literally, figuratively, and even spiritually, baring herself to Vanessa. “What do you say?”

It took maybe a second for Vanessa’s brain to connect with her mouth, but it felt like an eternity before she could pronounce the words dying to leave her lips.

“Yes, bitch! Yes! A million times yes!”

She jumped straight into Brooke’s open arms. She wrapped her legs around Brooke’s hips and her arms around her neck. The caution band forgotten, crumpling between their stomachs. It became the least important thing once their lips met. They kissed with the passion they had built up, not only since the last time they saw each other, but with a yearning that came from a lifetime of being apart. They kissed slowly and deeply, letting go of all restraints and inhibitions. They kissed with full abandon, as two people in love that had finally found the person that complemented them.


	10. Ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All through this story I have thanked svpermodel for the prompt, and every single one of you for taking the time, not only to read, but also to comment on this story. Yet, there is one person who I have purposely left till the very end. [Bernice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxbernice), thank you for being the amazing beta that you are, for always cheering me on, for calling me out when needed, and for understanding my poor, Mexican, Spanish speaking ass and never judging my million typos, spelling errors, or invented words. This story wouldn’t be half of what it is today if it weren’t because of you.  
Now, here’s the final installment of the amazing journey that Échappé has been. Thanks for riding it with me and hopefully you will join me on the next adventure.  
-Monkey.

Chapter 10

Vanessa wiped her hands on the apron tied to her waist. 

Instrumental music filled the air around her. 

All the dishes had been washed and the leftovers had been wrapped and put in the fridge. She looked around the vast kitchen, making sure that not one thing was left out of place.

A content smile took over her face. She never imagined, not even in her wildest dreams, that this would be her life, that this would be her house, her kitchen. Her eyes travelled across the many utensils and cooking devices, from the complex coffee maker to the state of the art oven that she still couldn’t fully understand. And the kitchen was not the only impressive room. When she walked through the hallways of the place she got to call home, it felt almost unreal. If someone had told her years ago, that she was going to be living in a mansion-like house, she would have laughed in their face. She never expected to have such an amazing life, and she made sure to be thankful for it every single day. The little girl in her, the one that made the arduous trip from Puerto Rico, always reminded her that things shouldn’t be taken for granted.

The sound of high heels echoed through the wide corridors, breaking her out of her bubble of gratitude. Craning her neck, she managed to see the shadow trying to tip-toe past the kitchen entrance.

“Elena?” Vanessa called out.

The figure stopped, hunched at the realization of being caught, then stood straight. “Vanessa, hi,” Elena said as casually as she could, purposely staying away from the light cast from the many bulbs in the kitchen. “I was just heading out.”

Vanessa removed the apron and threw it on the island. “Well, come here, baby girl. Lemme give you my blessing. I’m praying to all the saints and angels that you have a good night.”

“Geez, thanks, really. I just… don’t wanna be late. Lemme–”

“Nonsense!” Vanessa insisted, her hands motioning for Elena to move closer.

Reluctantly, the girl listened. She walked towards Vanessa with slow steps. She wasn’t even in the room yet when Vanessa realized why she had put some distance between them.

“Oh, no! You ain’t going nowhere dressed like that!” Vanessa exclaimed, her eyes rapidly registering the short dress, the tight waist, the deep cleavage, the spaghetti straps.

Elena’s shoulders dropped dramatically as she sighed deeply. “Vanessa, come on.” 

“No,” she stated firmly. “Don’t you be getting no ideas. You listen to me and go change into something decent.”

Crossing her arms on top of her chest, Elena squared her shoulders up. “You can’t make me. I’m going to be twenty one next month. I can drink, I can vote, I can wear whatever I want.”

“Not while you are living under my roof, _mija_.”

Elena stomped her feet on the floor, one at a time, just like she had subconsciously learned from Vanessa. “You mean Brooke’s roof.”

She finally understood. Vanessa had heard the saying many times, but words had never hit her like a ton of bricks before. If she were wearing any pearls, she would have been clutching them right then and there. Instead, she had to settle with wrapping her fingers around the pendant of her favorite necklace; the one that Brooke gave her on their first anniversary. It was a golden plate that spelled _Toes_. The capital T and the artistic tail of the letter s dug into her skin, still, the pain on her palm didn’t come close to the one in her heart. 

“I-I can’t believe… the level of... disrespect!” Vanessa heard the spirit of her mom putting words in her mouth. She had heard the same words coming from her mother when she was a rebellious teen, and now she was the one pronouncing them. “My mom warned me,” she thought out loud. “You are gonna pay once you have your own kids, she said. I never thought I would get my punishment from you; not after everything I’ve given you.”

Elena rolled her eyes, unaffected by the Hispanic guilt that Vanessa was trying to play on her. “Okay, okay. My bad. I didn’t mean to be rude, okay? I’m sorry,” she apologized, extending her arm across the breakfast bar, knowing fully well Vanessa was too far to reach. “Just... I need to make a good impression.”

Vanessa lifted her hands in the air, her brown colorized curls caressed her spine as she threw her head back. “Your brain is all you need, mama. That head of yours is so fucking smart, they are gonna be blown away by your intelligence.”

Suddenly, Elena was eleven again, smiling shyly and blushing at the compliment. Vanessa had always believed in her, she was there for Elena, pushing her to be better. Ever since that rainy day, almost ten years back, when Elena’s life had been turned upside down, Vanessa promised to always be there, no matter what, and she had kept that promise. The girl said goodbye to her biological mom that day, but she welcomed a best friend, a guardian angel, to take over that empty spot. Vanessa had fought for her, had done so much to stay in her life, all because of the endless love she had for the girl.

It took months. The trial for Elena’s custody had been long, hard, and expensive. They were not blood related, and the law said the orphan kids should stay with the immediate family. Elena had her grandmother, even an aunt from out of town offered to house her. Vanessa wouldn’t have it. That was her baby, she had helped her grow up; she wanted to adopt her and continue doing so. Above everything, Vanessa loved Elena as her own daughter already, and she made sure that Elena never forgot that. Not even ten years later, when Elena was getting ready for a Christmas dinner, trying to impress all the important partners of the law firm she worked for.

“Yeah, I guess,” Elena agreeing with her landed Vanessa in the present of their argument. “When they talk to me, they will know how smart I am. With this,” she said pointing to her outfit. “They can look at me and see that I’m not just a boring nerd, that I can also be fun.” She shook her shoulders, trying to make the conversation take a lighter tone. “Plus, this shows off my dancer’s legs. You know how hard we have worked for them.”

For a moment, it almost looked like Vanessa was considering the arguments. Almost.

“No,” Vanessa repeated. “That’s a slutty dress.”

“It’s yours,” Elena stated, annoyed.

Vanessa didn’t miss a beat, she shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, just because Imma slut it don’t mean you have to be one too.” And that was it, that was the end of the conversation. “Go up, change, and check with me before you leave.” 

With a loud huff, Elena turned around and marched down the hallway.

“Count to twenty-five, cause ten ain’t gon’ be enough,” Vanessa shouted after her, then continued to herself, knowing fully well the girl could no longer hear her. “My ass had to count to forty the other night. That didn’t lead me nowhere. Blame your mommy Brooklyn for being so damn irritating.”

She didn’t wait, Vanessa trusted Elena enough to have a better judgment, and went up the stairs to get ready herself. She turned off the lights as she went. It didn’t matter how much money they had now, there was no way she was going to let the power bill run up. She was constantly reminded that there was no need for her to worry about things like that. Even if she had all the money in the world - and Vanessa was pretty sure they did - there was no way she was going to change her ways. 

During a heated argument, Brooke had accused her of keeping a poor mentality. ‘You were taken out of poverty, but poverty will never be taken out of you,’ had been Brooke’s exact words. She had been right, Vanessa proudly agreed with her, disarming Brooke and forcing her to drop the subject.

Over the last decade, Vanessa and Brooke had had many ups and downs. Their love life had been one hell of a roller coaster of emotions, but they wouldn’t have had it any other way. Brooke, asking Vanessa to direct the center with her, had been a decisive point for them. Accepting to work together secretly meant admitting their feelings for the other, which they openly did a few weeks later. There was nothing to hide, they were in love and wanted to be part of each other’s lives. By the time the center was fully rebuilt they were already living together; and when Vanessa signed as a partner of the ballet company, an engagement ring waited for her on the last page of the contract. Their lives were joint professionally, personally, spiritually.

Spending so much time together only ensured that their big personalities were meant to crash more often than not. They were both stubborn and had very clear visions of what they wanted, which caused trouble at every creative meeting they had together. If things got really bad, they wouldn’t even talk to each other. Then a business trip would come along. Vanessa would travel to Miami, or Brooke would go back to Canada for a few days, and they would miss each other so much that the stupid dress color was no longer important. 

It had been a long time since they last had an actual fight. They had learned to read each other, and finding common ground came easier with time. 

Vanessa stopped at the top of the staircase, where a big painting of the family adorned the wall. Elena sat on a chair in the middle of the canvas, her eyes were cast down, as she read the book on her lap. To her right, with her hands placed on the back of the chair, and a leg extended behind her, Brooke was painted dressed in ballerina attire, head to literal toe. On the other side, striking a pose, Vanessa stood with her chin up high. Her sweet expression had been perfectly captured by the artist, who painted in extreme detail the sparkling fabric of her dress, the toned leg she had fully exposed, even the color on her toenails looked flawless.

She remembered how fun that session had been. Elena hadn’t had a problem, she only needed to sit down and pretend to read. Vanessa didn’t have an issue with posing, not even in the high heel sandals she was wearing. Brooke, who had insisted they all posed together for the painting, was the only one struggling. She constantly fell off the _relevé_, her back leg would get tired, the tiara slipped down and blinded her every other minute. They laughed and joked about how frustrated Brooke got. Ultimately, they decided to take a picture and let the painter do his magic on his own.

That was just an example of how beautiful their life was as a family. 

As Vanessa made her way to the master bedroom, she look at all the pictures hanging on the walls. The hallways were decorated with the most important days of each of them. There were images of their wedding, Vanessa and Brooke looked into each other’s eyes, filled with love, smiles nailed to their faces. Both of them captured signing Elena’s adoption papers, came right after. The next one was at Vanessa’s graduation, when she received her bachelor’s degree in business administration. All the girls from the center and most of the ballerinas had been there, celebrating with her. The timeline of their lives continued with the photos of Madam Charles retiring, and Brooke becoming head of the ballet company. There hadn’t been a better option to direct the well-oiled machine that RuPaul had created than Brooke.

Vanessa pushed the door to their room with a smile on her face. She had really made lemonade out of lemons. And then, she spotted the tallest glass of lemonade that, up to that day, still quenched her thirst.

Brooke stood in front of the mirror. She had nothing but her underwear on, the black lace highlighting her pale Canadian skin. The strapless bra dug into her back, right where her muscles have gone soft and small rolls had taken place. The round ass was fully exposed, it may not have been as firm as before, but it still made Vanessa’s mouth water. The tiny thong disappeared right in the middle of her butt, covering only a portion of Brooke’s crotch. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, small pearls went around it, making the hairdo look even more elegant. 

“You are never gonna believe what that daughter of yours tried to pull off with me?” said Vanessa in way of a greeting.

Without removing her eyes from her own reflection, Brooke smile. “I knew you were not going to approve that dress.”

Shocked filled Vanessa’s expression, who tried to talk to Brooke through the mirror. “Oh, oh! You saw it and didn’t say nothin’?”

“I did see it,” Brooke stated, matter-of-factly. “I told her to either change or walk really fast. Guess she wasn’t fast enough.” 

“Ah, so this’ your fault then?” Vanessa crossed her arms, clearly upset, but Brooke simple shook her head.

“I did nothing wrong.”

“You are giving our daughter permission to be a hoe,” Vanessa pointed out.

Brooke chuckled, a can of hairspray travelling to cover the back of her head. “I’m not gonna apologize because I’m not in the wrong. Sorry.”

It was Vanessa’s turn to laugh. “Bitch, you just did.”

“Did what?” Brooke asked confused, not really following the conversation when her attention was mostly on herself.

“You said you were not gonna apologize then said so– You know what? Never mind, you are not even paying attention.”

“Of course I am.” Brooke spoke as she bent over, trying to grab her lipstick from the vanity. Her position only gave Vanessa full access to her butt, earning her a playful slap. “Hey!” She yelped as she rapidly turned around, facing a smiling Vanessa.

Their eyes met and it was as if time had stopped all together. It didn’t matter if they were just meeting each other for the first time or if they had been together for ten years, the admiration for the other still filled their eyes and warmed their hearts. Vanessa closed the gap between them, ducking her head as she wrapped her arms around Brooke’s waist. They didn’t move, even their breathing slowed down. Vanessa felt the heat exuding Brooke’s chest, and pressed her cheek even more firmly against her skin.

Brooke caressed her hair, pushing it back a little. “Hi, baby,” she whispered before pressing a kiss on the crown of her head.

“Hi, Mami,” Vanessa replied looking up, the smile still pasted to her lips. “I’m happy you didn’t put that lipstick on yet.”

“Huh?”

“Now I don’t feel bad about doing this.”

With a stretch of her neck, Vanessa connected her lips with Brooke’s. Smiles crashed with each other a couple of times, but soon the playfulness turned into real kissing. They both closed their eyes and allowed the moment to carry them away. There was no need for fight for dominance, and tongues didn’t battle for power anymore. It was all a well rehearsed dance that they had learned over time. Heads moved side to side in perfect synchrony as passion took over and the air around them became hotter.

Brooke took a step back, then another, Vanessa took the chance and pushed her against the wall. A loud huff left her lips, probably at the feeling of cold concrete against her hot skin. 

Vanessa pushed her knee between Brooke’s opened legs. The height difference had never represented a problem for them, and it wouldn’t be this time either. Brooke bent her legs slightly and pressed her core against Vanessa’s knee. She rocked back and forth with her eyes closed and her mouth opened. Vanessa watched Brooke pleasure herself with her body, feeling her own underwear getting soaked by the image alone. She needed more, she needed to be an active participant of Brooke’s moment of ecstasy. Each of her hands went up to cup Brooke’s breasts. The hard wiring of the bra made it difficult for her to reach her goal. It took one desperate move, accompanied by a grunt, for Vanessa to pull down the garment, forcing it to hang loosely around Brooke’s waist. She opened her eyes in surprise, both at the sudden movement and at Vanessa’s groan.

She wanted to say something, it looked like Brooke was about to object, but any coherent thought flew out the window when the first finger went in. Brooke didn’t even register when Vanessa moved the thong to the side, but every nerve ending stood at attention when the second finger penetrated her. 

The feeling of Brooke, tight around her fingers, her wetness dripping to her palm, was enough to make Vanessa shake with want.

“Baby, we can’t do this,” Brooke reminded her. 

Vanessa knew, still didn’t stop. She slowly moved in and out, taking her time to explore a body that she knew by heart.

“We are going to be late,” Brooke insisted.

“I don’t care.” Wrapping her lips around a nipple, Vanessa tried to reply. “We can do as we want.” She sucked hard, at the same time that she pushed a third finger in. “They can’t tell us nothing.”

In the midst of moaning and panting for air, Brooke tried yet again to find her voice. “Bu-but Trixie and Katya–”

Nothing more needed to be said, Vanessa dropped her shoulders and released the breast from her mouth. “The fuck you had to bring up those hoes for?” Carefully, she moved her hand away, cleaning her fingers on a towel sitting next to them. “Talk about a mood killer.”

Even when she tried to pronounce those words in an angry tone, Vanessa knew Brooke was right. It was the opening night of the Nutcracker, a show that they both had been working very hard on. Once again, like a tsunami, the changes she had experienced in the last few years, hit Vanessa. She would have never imagined herself being the creative producer of a play of that magnitude, yet, there she was, getting ready to see it come to life, along with her wife. _Her wife._ She was married to the woman she had learned to love, because it came as a learning process. It hadn’t been love at first sight, or any other bullshit used in the movies. They had known each other to the very core, stripped the good, the bad, and everything in between, before they could see that they were meant to be together.

The memories of all those times Vanessa rejected Brooke flooded her mind. She hadn’t been easy, she had put up a fight, a pointless, useless fight; because Brooke had always wanted the best for her. Falling in love had come as a plus, an extra that made every other struggle worth it, an addition that changed her life only for the better.

Fully dressed, and with her makeup finished, Brooke went around and pulled Vanessa’s zipper up. “What are you thinking about, baby?”

“You know that step, that dance move,” Vanessa said, turning around. “You have your feet together, then you, like, slide them open.” She used her hands to explain the movement, hoping Brooke could follow her thought process. “You know which one, you do it a couple of times. Open, close, open, close.”

Brooke grabbed their coats, placing Vanessa’s around her shoulders. “Yeah, I know which one. Why?”

“Because that’s us, bitch. Before we knew we loved each other. We went like that when we first met; open and close, open and close. That was us! What’s the name of that step?”

Brooke laughed openly, pulling Vanessa closer to her as they made their way downstairs.

“That’s _échappé_, darling.”

“That’s us!” Vanessa repeated with a smile. “_Échappé_.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written 20190615 - 20191120


End file.
